


Supernatural: The Story of Sam and Dean

by Kyna_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Blood Kink, Bottom Sam, Canon Divergence, Canon Temporary Character Death, Case Fic, Dean Talks Dirty, Established Relationship, Impala Sex, John Finds Out, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Porn With Plot, Power top Dean, Protective Bobby Singer, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Top Dean, Weecest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 126,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12323505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyna_Winchester/pseuds/Kyna_Winchester
Summary: It's been two years since Sam Winchester left the love of his life to attend college at Stanford University. But a shadow from his past just might drag him back into the life he used to live. As the Winchester brother's rediscover their feelings for each other an old enemy plots against them. One of them will have to make a choice that will change the course of the future. Is the love they share strong enough to overcome destiny? Can Sam hold onto his brother's humanity as Dean begins to fall into a darkness so deep he can't escape?





	1. Chapter 1

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Sam awoke to the blackness of night accompanied by the shallow sound of Jess' breathing while she slept peacefully snuggled up next to him. The street light shown through the window illuminating the room just enough to make out her slider frame, the TV, and the bedroom door which stood wide open. "Huh…I thought I had closed that", He thought to himself. Perhaps she had gotten a glass of water before coming to bed herself, leaving it open behind her before crawling into bed next to him. "But I was sure I had heard something." It had been two years since Sam Winchester had left his old life to become a law student at Stanford University. All things considered about the way things went down before he left the only family he had ever known life was shaping up well. He was excelling in his classes, making friends, had a beautiful girlfriend. Jess had unknowingly helped him come a long way in burying old feelings about a certain green eyed someone. "No no no! Sam you will never go there again. Get it out of your head." As Sam shook his head and stood out of bed to creep to the bathroom where he could wash his face the sound of the fridge door closing came from the kitchen. Sam crept to the door peering out into the hall. He moved silently towards the kitchen, feather light steps, cat like movement. Something that had been drilled into his head for years by an obsessive father. Just as he reached the kitchen his heart started to race. There by the fridge was the shadow of a man barely noticeable in the dim moon light coming through the curtains. "Wrong house bud" he thought to himself, pressing his back against the wall just at the edge of the hall. As the intruder stepped by Sam sprung into action catching the man by the back, wrapping an arm around in an attempt to take him down with a choke hold.

Unfortunately the man was fast and spun deflecting Sam's arm, placing his arms up to protect his face just before Sam slammed a fist at him. The man gripped Sam, then cold clocked him right in the face. Sam countered with a kick which again was blocked. Before Sam could launch another swing the man had him by the throat and slammed him to the floor. The body that pressed into Sam pinning him to the floor was strangely familiar. There was the smell of cheap worn leather, even cheaper whiskey, and musky soap. It wasn't just the smells that Sam seemed to remember but the feel of the powerful legs between his own, the rock hard abs under his fingers, then the voice came. Holding the power to shatter everything Sam had built out of his life these past few months. "Whoa, easy tiger." It came out relaxed, yet sensual at the same time, Sam's cheeks blushed slightly, his breath was heavy. He shifted slightly trying to hide his growing erection. "Dean?", in the moon light Sam saw the smile on Dean's face as he laughed in that oh so confident way. "You scared the crap out of me." Sam said, hoping the other man wasn't noticing how hard his erection was becoming. "That's cause you're out of practice." Said Dean as he ran a hand down Sam's stomach. "Get off me Dean, now." Sam thought he saw a look of pain before the confusion that settled on Dean's face just before he got up and extended a hand to Sam. Which was left hanging as Sam pulled himself up off the floor. "What are you doing here?" Sam asked. "Well I was looking for a beer." Was the reply just as the light turned on and Jess stood in the doorway.

"Sam…?" she said in a sleepy tone her eyes trying to adjust to the light. She was dressed in her underwear and a crop top, low cut t shirt. Sam looked beside him to see Dean staring at her. A jealousy swelling inside him, yet as much as he wished, it wasn't for her. "Dean this is Jessica, my girlfriend." Dean stared blankly into her. Only showing his displeased look for a split second, replacing it with a playboy smile. "Your brother Dean?" she asked as Sam's older brother walked towards her. "Hey if you don't mind I need to borrow your…boyfriend for a minute. Family business to talk about. But hey it was nice meeting you." he gave a wink at the end of his sentence. Sam feeling the need to space himself from Dean moved to stand beside Jess. He placed an arm around her waist as if to say yes I have a girlfriend. "No, anything you need to say to me you can say in front of her." Dean rolled his eyes, giving a sigh. "Ok." The look he now gave Sam was stern, all business. "Dad's not been home for a few days." Sam gave a smirk. "So he's passed out drunk some where he will stumble in eventually." Dean returned the smirk. "Dad's on a hunting trip…and he hasn't been home in a few days." Sam's smirk turned to a slightly fear fueled shock." Jess please excuse us." Sam grabbed his brother by the arm and walked out the door without another word said. Jess was left inside, the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

The boys stood outside next to the 1967 Chevrolet Impala that once belonged to John Winchester. Their father, a man of normal height, average weight, black hair. A man that Sam wanted to see again like he wanted a bullet in the head. Dean had no idea the events that happened between Sam and John the day that Sam disappeared from Dean's life with no goodbye. The events that Sam would keep secret from his older brother until the day he died.

* * *

 

John stumbled into the abandoned house he had left his sons in days before to chase a lead about a werewolf taking girls from a local bar. After realizing it was a dead end he got drunk and went home with the slutty bartender and ended up at her place for a week. He shut the door behind him and walked to the counter and placed his shopping bag down pulling out a six pack of beer and popping the cap off he took it to the head, chugging the whole thing down. A noise seemed to be coming from the master bedroom that was meant for him to sleep in just down the hall. John stumbled down the hall to find the door cracked he peeked through the small space and what he saw almost made him vomit a weeks worth of alcohol out of his system.

His oldest son Dean was on top of Sam, cock buried balls deep into his youngest. Sam was face down moaning loudly like a cat in heat into a pillow. Dean's large hands gripping Sam's ass tight enough that hand print shaped bruises would be left for sure. Dean was leaned over his lover edging him closer to climax with the words spoken into his ear. "Oh god baby boy you feel so good. Gonna make you cum so hard for me." Dean pulled out to the tip and slammed back into Sam over and over again."Fuck Sammy you're so tight." Sam gripped the pillow tighter, biting his lower lip, whining each time Dean would almost fully pull out. Then letting out moans that were more like screams each time Dean would slam back into him. "Yeah baby boy that's it scream for big brother to make you cum."

Sam begged for it, "Please De. Please let me cum. I can't take much more." And Dean being the loving brother he was, granted Sam's wish he pulled out just long enough to flip Sam over, wrapping one of Sam's legs around his waist laying the other over his shoulder. Burying himself back inside Sam in one swift motion. Dean pounded into his little brother as Sam dug his nails into Dean's back running them down drawing blood. The older man hissed in pain and let out a loud grunt, but it only seemed to make him more focused on his goal. Dean arched Sam's hips under him just enough to allow him access to that sweet spot inside Sam. As his thrusts grazed it Sam lost it. Moaning almost like a girl he spilled his seed all over his older brother's stomach. Still clawing at Dean's back. The blood from his nail marks dripping onto the sheets. The sight of Sam throwing his head back in pleasure mixed with the feel of wet warmth hitting his stomach must have been to much for Dean. He let out a loud deep moan of his own, gave a few more deep hard thrusts and collapsed on top of Sam. The two of them panting like animals.

John stumbled his way back into the kitchen returning to his beers. He heard the shower turn on moments before Sam walked into the room wearing some old jeans with holes in the knees, sweat dripping from his hair. When he noticed John standing there sipping his beer Sam turned white as a ghost. "Dad…when did you get here…?" John pointed to the front door and quietly said, "Outside now." Sam pulled the shirt in his hand over his chest and walked out the door followed by a beer fueled furious John. No sooner than Sam had walked down the step of the front porch did John chose to punch his youngest in the jaw, causing Sam to stagger back a bit. "How fucking dare you Sam! Let your brother ride you like a cheap whore!" Sam pleaded with his father, "Please Dad don't blame Dean it's not his fault." John's fury was pouring out of him. "Sammy that boys a sexual deviant. Bringing back woman after woman home when he was supposed to be caring for you while I worked."

Sam continued, " No Dad it's not his fault! I started this! Please don't punish Dean. He refused me at first but I drove him to this. It's my fault." John slammed the beer bottle down on the ground. "Damn it Sammy you're going to drag your brother into hell with you! I knew you were a fucking faggot, there's never been hope for you. But Dean wasn't like you! What have you done?" Sam hung his head in shame as John continued. "You're not my son, get the fuck out of here and never come back. Never speak to your brother again. I want you gone by the time I get back." John walked to his truck, speeding off to get more beer. He waited until John's truck was out of sight to walk back inside. Dean called from the bedroom for him. "Sammy I need you to treat these cuts on my back." Sam rubbed the tears from his face, walking into the room to see Dean sitting on the bed, wet from his shower, towel around his waist with blood dripping from his back. "Baby boy you did a number this time." Sam pulled a gauze wrap out of the first aid kit in his duffel bag and wrapped Dean's back to stop the bleeding. Dean stood letting the towel hit the floor then pulled a pair of boxer briefs out of his bag. Putting them on he laid on the blood stained sheets and patted the bed next to him. "Come lay with me." Sam laid down next to his brother until he heard soft breathing next to him signaling that Dean was fast asleep. He stood up put his shoes on, packed his duffel bag and left, never to see or speak to his lover again.

* * *

 

Sam sighed and leaned against the impala, "Dean you can't just expect me to leave with you in the middle of the night. You can do this by your self." Dean looked Sam dead in the eye. A look that held a touch of longing mixed with anger. "Yeah but I don't wanna." Sam sighed, "What was he hunting?" Dean popped the trunk of the impala and pulled out a voice recorder and a map. "People have gone missing down this same stretch of road for months. The count keeps climbing. Then I got this message." Dean pressed play and a barely audible message from John played. "There's EVP on that." said Sam. The eldest Winchester gave his trademark sensual smirk and said, "There you go Sammy, Just like riding a bike." He wanted a smile what he got instead was a short forceful, "It's Sam." Dean replayed the message slowed down and the voice in the back ground gave an eerie whisper. "I can never go home again." Sam looked at his brother, gave an aggravated grunt and said, "Alright I'll go with you but I have to be back before Monday. I have an interview."

Dean was instantly excited. "Get your stuff. Me and Baby will be waiting here for you. And remember driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole" Thirty minutes later they were on the interstate headed god knows where, it didn't matter. Over the loud speakers blaring ACDC's highway to hell nothing could be heard. Especially not the inner screaming of Sam 's fear of being alone with the only person he had ever been in love with. Dean was rocking out hard singing along. Sam smiled and snuck a glance at Dean. His eyes were on the road one hand on the wheel the other drumming on the dash. He looked every bit as handsome as Sam remembered. He had been in love with this beautiful man since he could remember. Dean would bring home girls and fuck them in the bathroom of the cheap motels John had paid for with stolen credit cards or cash. Sam would hide at first but around 16 years of age he started to imagine he was the girls.

* * *

 

On his seventeenth birthday he worked up the courage to lay a sloppy kiss on Dean. Which earned him a black eye. When Dean had come to apologize for the punch Sam had kissed him again and Dean told him they were to old to show love that way. Dean gave his brother a tight long hug. "See Sammy, that's better. We're men now." It was a few months before he tried anything again. One night Dean had brought a girl home and started fucking her on the bed when he noticed Sam watching from the bathroom with his hand down his pants. Dean had smiled at his brother, licked his lips and slapped the girls ass. Saying horribly filthy things to her as he fucked her from behind. Never once breaking eye contact until Sam came in his pants. After Dean had sent the skank home he opened the bathroom door. "Enjoy the show Sammy…what's wrong?" Sam was sitting in the floor crying. Dean leaned down, tilting his brother's face up to look at him.

"Why would you do that to me Dean? You never once looked away from me the whole time." The things Dean had said ran thought his head. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk when I'm done." followed by "yeah that's right babe I want you to swallow this cum when I'm done with you. Every single drop. Don't waste any." Sam only started to cry harder as he remembered the lines Dean had gave. The older brother leaned down and tried to take Sam into his arms but was shoved away. "Which of us were you talking to Dean? Me or her?" Dean didn't have the guts to tell him at the time that he was saying the things he wanted to do to Sam. How could he it was so wrong, they were brothers. Blood related, it was wrong and he knew it. So instead of being honest he lashed out. "You're the one that jerked off to it you little perv. Get the fuck out I need to wash my dick and I don't want you staring at it the whole time."

* * *

 

And that's the way it would go Sam would cry and Dean would bully him out of shame. Until one day Dean came home without a girl. Sam was on the bed jerking off and Dean just sat on the other bed next to him.

* * *

 

Sam pulled his hand out of his pants embarrassed, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. "Come here." Sam did as he was told not sure if Dean was going to have a talk with him or hit him. "Stand up." Again Sam did as he was told coming to stand in front of his big brother. "Take your pants off." Sam blushed, "Dean…I." Dean wore a devilish grin. "Do what I say." Sam did as he was told now standing in front of his brother in only a tshirt. "You're not wearing underwear?" Dean asked. His reply was a deeper blush. Dean raised his foot and touched the toe of his boot to the tip of Sam's dick. Sam gasped, "Dean?" If it were at all possible Dean's grin grew even more wicked. "Shh…isn't this what you want? Now fuck my boot Sammy." Sam started ever so timidly to thrust his hips so that his dick was sliding against the bottom of Dean's boot. This went on a few minutes, Sam's breathing growing heavy and unsteady. Until cum shot out of the tip onto Dean's boot.

They both stayed still embarrassed and unsure of what just happened. Sam's eyes shifted down first out of shame but what he noticed next caused him to bite his lip. Dean's gaze also shifted down to his own crotch, and the large bulge in his pants causing the tight fabric to strain against the need of its release. He reached down and started rubbing himself through his jeans. "Sammy do you like what you see?" Sam met his eyes, a look of desire mixed with uncertainty. Was Dean serious? "Come, get on your knees and show big brother how much you appreciate getting to cum on my boot." A hand extended out to Sam which he took without hesitation. Dean watched as Sam fell to his knees in front of him watching Dean use his free hand to undo his belt, the button on his pants, and finally the zipper. "Go on, reach in there and pull it out." Sam released Dean's hand and fumbled to pull his boxers down pulling out Dean's length. Dean shifted to push his jeans and boxers down just enough to completely free his impressive cock, then placed a hand in Sam's hair, the other using his finger to trace the shape of Sam's lips.

"I'll help you Sammy go on, put it in your mouth." Sam did as he was told, he opened his mouth wide and placed his lips around the head. " Ah fuck baby boy your mouth is so damn hot…and wet. That's it now up and down, go slow at first, cover your teeth." In the end it didn't go well Sam couldn't figure out how to cover his teeth properly so Dean just made him hold his mouth open while he jerked off against his baby brothers bottom lip. Dean came on Sam's face, then took him to the bathroom to clean him up. They didn't speak about it again for months. Sam's eighteenth birthday had come and gone. Dean hadn't brought another girl home, Sam hadn't tried to start anything with Dean again out of fear that he wasn't good at it.

* * *

 

Sam's thoughts had brought on another erection as he sat in the passenger seat of the impala. Highway to hell ended and Dean reached down to turn off the radio. Or so Sam thought, as the next track started Dean's hand came to rest on Sam's leg. He wanted nothing more than to let it rest there. Instead he swatted it away, "Dude, what are you doing?" Dean's expression grew angry as he pulled into a motel off the side of the road, parked, and got out slamming the door behind him, walking off to the office to get a room. He came back and shock a room key at Sam. "Get your shit and come on." Sam grabbed his bag from the back seat and walked to the room with Dean. Sam gave a sigh of relief when the door opened to two queen size beds. "Yeah I thought you wouldn't want one like we used to get. Since you know…you went out and got a girlfriend." Sam ignored his brothers angry comments and walked to his bed of choice and started making himself at home. "Whatever man I'm grabbing a shower." Dean stormed off towards the bathroom. Slamming the door behind him.

Sam sat at the small table next to the window with his laptop, fully intent on researching the people missing from this stretch of highway. When Dean emerged from the shower he was wrapped in nothing but a towel. Sam had failed to notice until now that in his anger the older Winchester had forgot his clothes. As Dean walked past Sam into the lamp light to get his basketball shorts out of his own bag his back was turned to him. Sam stole a glance at Dean that turned into a full on stare. His back…from the top of his shoulders to the bottom of his waist line bore ten thin scars. Sam wasn't the only one who carried the scars of the last day they were lovers. Dean glanced over his shoulder, shit! Sam was caught.

Dean gave that devilish grin and said, "Don't worry dude, the chicks love it." He dropped the towel and pulled his shorts on. Turning to look at his brother who looked like an angry bull about to charge. "Whoever she was she must have been wild." Sam spat as he turned back to his computer, refusing to admit he knew he was the one to scar his brother's back while in the grip of passion. Dean rose from the bed, pulled Sam up by the collar of his shirt throwing him down on the bed.

Before he could protest Dean was on him placing himself between Sam's legs, lips pressed against his ear. "You were wild when you cried out beneath me." Sam bit his lip to hold back the moan that threatened to escape. Dean ran a hand from Sam's stomach up his chest and traced his lips with his finger tip. "Why'd you leave me Sammy? Why'd you replace me with that pretty little toy you call Jess? Wasn't I good to you?" Sam pushed Dean off him, sitting up on the bed. But his attempt only brought Dean's naked stomach in front of him with a huge bulge tenting the shorts. Sam tried to look anywhere but at Dean's erection is front of him. "Dean stop fooling around." Dean's hand forced Sam to look up at him. "Who's fooling around?" Sam stood, he had grown over the past two years and now stood much taller than Dean. "Stop it man, I have a girlfriend." He pushed past Dean and fell onto his own bed. Dean crawled under the covers of his bed still staring at the ceiling long after Sam was asleep. His thoughts drifted to the first time they made love.

* * *

 

Sam was eighteen which meant that Dean himself was twenty-two. They had gone on a hunt with Dad who had left them in the impala to sleep over night, while he drank himself to a coma god knows where. Sam had complained he was cold so he could get Dean in the backseat with him. Sam now was in Dean's lap one leg on either side of his hips, with his mouth sucking on Dean's earlobe. Dean pressed his fingertips into Sam's hips as a low moan escaped between his lips. "Sammy, what are you doing?" Sam whispered into Dean's ear. "Come on De. I'm tired of waiting. I want more." Since the night they had first fooled around Dean had opened up to his brother in the past few months. They had started just making out, jerking each other off, but Sam was growing impatient for more so Dean had bought them some lube and had started the process of getting Sam ready for sex.

"You're so pushy Sammy. I'm not sure if you're ready." Sam kissed his brother, sliding his tongue past his lips. Dean responded back by deepening the kiss. "De, please need you so badly." Sam went back to working on Dean's ear. Licking down to his neck and grazing it with his teeth. Damn that boy, he knew that was Dean's weak spot. Dean undid his belt, then pants, and pushed them down to his knees where Sam helped him slide them the rest of the way off. Sam had already stripped naked in the hopes that it would more easily seduce Dean. It had. Dean set his little brother down on the seat and picked him up under the knees spreading his legs open. "Hold them apart for me baby boy." Sam placed his hands to hold his legs open as Dean slicked up a few fingers with lube from the bottle they kept in a duffel bag. Dean slid two fingers in to his brother all the way and started to move gently. Sam whined for more so Dean started to press in the third. Sam hissed a little but still begged for more. Once he had all three in and could move them with ease he pulled out leaving Sam whimpering for Dean to fill him again.

Dean always pleases his Sammy. He slicked his length with the lube and pulled Sam over so he was straddling his lap again. He pressed his tip against Sam's hole. "You ready baby boy?" Sam nodded his head, giving a begging look. Dean pushed slowly past the first ring of muscle until the head was in. Sam's eyes grew wide letting out a weak pained sound. Dean froze, "Sammy are you ok? We can stop." Sam shook his head, "No De please…need you." Dean kissed Sam's neck and pushed just a bit further in. Slowly, stopping as Sam needed him to, until he was in to the hilt. When Sam relaxed he began to move. Sliding slowly, so painfully slowly in then out again as Sam became used to the feeling. Dean licked Sam's neck as he started gaining a rhythm. Holding Sam's hips and moving him up and down onto him. Sam moaned and gasped as Dean worked him. His hand running through Dean's hair.

Once Dean felt that Sam was well adjusted he stopped moving Sam on his own and looked up into his baby brothers eyes. "Ride me Sammy, Ride your big brother." Sam moved his hips up and down, back and forth, making circular motions, as he gripped the back of the car seat behind Dean for support. Dean used this moment to reach down and start to stroke Sam's erection. Sam gave out a cry of pleasure at the feel of his brother surrounding him. He could feel Dean's breath hot on his neck, their bodies pressed together, Dean thick and hot inside him. One hand on Sam's hip, the other around his cock. Dean gave low deep moans to match Sam's desperate ones. The stimulation was to much. He shuddered, cumming in deans hand, onto their stomachs. He sank down onto Dean, to exhausted to ride his stallion anymore. "De want you to cum too." Dean shifted them in the seat laying his not yet so tall Sammy down onto the seat wrapping his legs around him, thrusting gently, slowly, loving his Sammy.

He wouldn't fuck his brother, not yet. Not like the girls he used to bring home. His Sammy was special, and Dean would treat him that way. He wouldn't fuck him hard until Sam asked for it. He slowly made love to his brother who whimpered and moaned sweetly under him. Softly bucking his hips to meet Dean's. Soon enough the sound of Sam's voice brought Dean to the edge. "Sammy move your legs gotta pull out gonna cum." Sam's legs around Dean's hips gripped tighter. "Don't you dare. De, want you to cum inside me." Those words were the end of Dean, he moaned loudly and shivered, locking lips with Sam as his seed spill out inside the hot wetness of Sam. He pulled out, flipped them so that Sam lay on top of him. Both breathing heavy. The car windows were completely fogged , the smell of sweat and sex in the air. Dean's cum dripped out of Sam, down Dean's leg, onto the seat. Dean didn't give one fuck in that moment if Dad came back and found them. He had his Sam, everything was perfect. He reached into the floor board, pulled the blanket Sam had been using before over them and drifted to sleep.

* * *

 

Dean had moved from the bed to the bathroom of the motel. His memories of their first time combined with pushing Sam down onto the bed earlier had left him with blue balls that wouldn't go away. He stood there his own cum in his hand, cock softening. Looking into the mirror, hating who he saw looking back at him. Whatever he had done to make Sam leave was on him. He needed to leave him alone. His brother had a life, a girlfriend. They would find Dad, and he would take Sam home and walk out of his life again. Tomorrow they would investigate around the near by town. Dean promised he would resist the temptation that was Sam. He'd done it before when they were younger, he could do it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've recently reread this chapter and noticed some small typos. Unfortunately I'm working very hard to get this finished. So I don't make time to come back and fix them until the end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean hunt for the lady in white while they struggle with their past relationship.

The Winchester boys had spent the day going around the town of Jericho trying to get information about the case. They had a run in on a bridge just outside of town with law enforcement where the latest missing person’s car was left abandoned. Finding out that the only connection between the victims is that they are all male. They hit a lucky streak when they drove into town to question the girlfriend of the victim. Amy was hanging missing posters around the town. The boys gave a small lie about being related to her boyfriend Tory, saying they were looking for him as well. Sitting in a café with her and one of her friends they learned about a local legend of a woman who died on the bridge who was said to hitch hike, whoever picks her up goes missing forever. Bingo they had a ghost.

The boys thanked the girls and returned to the motel to research. It wasn’t long until they found their ghost, a young woman who committed suicide on the bridge after her two children drown. That night they would return to the bridge to check for clues. The boys stood looking over the railing into the water while Sam attempted to start a conversation. “So you really think Dad would have been here?” Dean gave a shrug of his shoulders, turning around , taking a few steps away from Sam. “Well he was chasing this lead and we are chasing him so…” Sam interrupted his brother, “Dean I told you I got to be back by Monday.” Dean turned to face Sam. “Yeah I know, what you think you’re just going to live a normal life and marry your girl? Does Jessica know the truth about you? The things we hunt? The things we’ve done?” Sam took a forceful step towards Dean saying, “No and she’s never going to know!”

Dean had anger in his voice when he spoke, “You have a responsibility Sammy.” Sam scoffed, “To who? To dad? To you? We hunted evil things Dean! And the things we’ve done were a mistake. It never should have happened.” The anger and hurt inside the older brother boiled over. He grabbed Sam by the front of his coat pushing him back into a support beam on the bridge. His face was serious, “Don’t talk about it like that. What we had wasn’t a mistake.” Dean let go of Sam and turned away just in time to see a woman in a white gown standing on the railing , watching them. Had she heard what they said? “Sam…?” The younger brother turned his head, noticing her too. She looked Dean dead in the eye just before she jumped from the edge. They ran to the rail looking down into the water but nothing was there. The boys looked at each other. “We gotta find where Dad was staying. There’s another motel here in town let’s check it out.”

As the boys pulled up to the shady looking motel Dean got out to go to the office and rent a room. He returned wearing a smile. Apparently the name on his fake credit card matched the name of another man who rented a room here for a month. Sam picked the lock to the room and they walked in to find a mess. There was the smell of old food that had started to rot, salt on the floor in front of the door and in the window sills. Missing persons papers on the walls and dad’s journal sat on the foot of the bed. Dean rushed over picking it up flipping through it to find a page in the back that read Dean 35-111. “Dad wouldn’t have just taken off and left this unless he knew we would find it, see he left these coordinates. This is where he’s gone.” Sam was looking at a print of the article about Constance, the woman from the bridge. “Looks like Dad figured it out. She’s a woman in white. That’s the connection between her victims.”

Dean came to stand behind Sam, who quickly moved away from the older man. Dean gave a sigh, 'Great Dean why did you have to go and try and seduce him last night. He can’t even stand to be close to you.' He thought to himself. Dean cleared his throat choosing to ignore Sam’s need to be far away from him. “Yeah a woman in white that means she was cheated on in life. That’s the connection between all her victims. They’ve all been unfaithful.” Sam continued to look around the room for clues. “Maybe Dad couldn’t find the bones and left it here for you to finish The job.”, said Sam. Dean moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Flipping through the journal again. “No, dad wouldn’t leave unless he thought the job was done. She had to have another weakness somewhere.” Suddenly Dean realized that the room was small, with only one bed. He needed to get away from Sam before the feelings he was trying to bury surfaced. “Hey I’m gonna go get some food from the dinner down the street want some?” Sam who was flipping through some papers on the night stand gave a quick “No thank you.” Dean stood pulled on his leather jacket walking out of the room.

It was late but the diner was just up the road. He hoped it was open twenty-four hours. He turned the key in the ignition and baby roared to life. He turned the wheel left to head to his destination but the car turned right instead. Spooked he pressed the brake but the gas floored, the car was driving itself. Dean looked up into the rearview mirror to see the ghost of Constance sitting in the back. “Take me home.” She said. The impala pulled up in front of an old farm house that looked like it had been abandoned for years. The car shut off, the doors locking . Dean tried to pull up the lock and take off running but the locks were stuck in place. The ghost in the back spoke again. “I can never go home.” She suddenly appeared in the front with Dean, straddling his lap. She kissed him passionately, but he shoved her back. “You can’t kill me, I’ve never been unfaithful.”

She gave a wicked sneer, pressing her body into him. “No, but your boyfriend took a new lover before ending things with you and he will come for you.” Dean struggled to reach the door lock , but she held him down. “He made things loud and clear when he took off, it was my choice not to move on.” “She dug her fingers into his chest, trying to grip his heart. Dean screamed in pain. “Still I’ve seen into your soul. You’ve sinned by sleeping with your brother, that I can not forgive. I will have you both.” Dean reached instead for the keys and started the car, flooring the gas. “Im taking you home.” The impala jerked forward speeding into the house crashing through the wall, coming to a stop in the living room. Everything went black.

Back at the motel Sam had found a note in John's journal with the location of where Constance had been buried. He glanced up at the clock. An hour had passed, Dean should have been back already. Something was wrong. He ran out to the parking lot finding a car unlocked he quickly hotwired it. Speeding off towards the old farm house where her bones were located in the back yard. Something in his gut told him Dean had found out she was buried there and had gone to burn her bones himself. Something had to have gone wrong. Upon arrival his stomach sank as he took in the scene. The impala was parked inside the house. He threw the stolen car in park, rushing inside. “Dean!”, he called out. He heard a weak groan coming from the front of the impala. Running over to the passenger door to find Dean coming to in the driver’s seat. He opened the door, “Come on I got you De.” Dean looked up at him as he pulled his brother from the car.

The look on Dean's face was…sad. Sam using his nickname for his brother when they were lovers stung. “You ok?” Dean stood a bit shaky rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah but you shouldn’t have come. She wants you.” Sam was confused. “What? But I haven’t been...” The ghost appeared in front of them before he could finish his sentence. A look of hatred on her face. A heavy wooden desk slid across the floor pinning the boys against the car. This ghost was powerful, they needed to escape fast. As they struggled to break free water started to pour down into the room from the stairs. The ghost turned in fear as the apparition of two small children appeared before her. Wrapping their arms around her she screamed. Suddenly the three ghosts seemed to catch fire, melting into the floor. They were gone.

The pressure holding the desk against the boys was also gone. Sam pushed it away and climbed over, helping Dean around it as well. They pushed the impala out of the house to find her in decent shape, she would need a new headlight but that was the only damage considering she went through a wall. Dean looked up at Sammy. “What the hell just happened in there?” Sam explained the second part of the woman in white legend. “The article said her children were drown in a bathtub upstairs. She killed them after finding her husband was unfaithful and feared returning here where their spirits awaited her. Eager to drag her soul to hell where she belonged.” Dean shrugged. “Remind me to never have kids.”

Back in the car Sam was mapping out the coordinates John had left in the journal as Dean drove, the radio playing softly in the background. “Ok so it looks like Dad went to Blackwater Ridge Colorado. I’ve circled it on the map you should have an easy time finding it.” Dean glanced over at his younger brother, “Sounds charming, hey if I shag ass we can make it there by morning.” Sam refused to look at him, afraid that if he saw his face he wouldn’t have the strength to do what he needed to. “Dean my interview is in ten hours.” Dean looked back at the road in front of him. “Fine I’ll take you back to her.” Sam spoke softly, regret in his voice. “Dean it isn’t about her, I have a life. Look I’m sorry about what I said earlier. What we had was real…but that’s over now. I’ve moved on and you have too.”

"Hey no chick flick moments. Don’t worry I have.” Dean lied, humor in his tone. Sam smiled with a reply of, “Jerk.” To which Dean answered, “Bitch.” The impala pulled up just in front of the entrance to Sam’s apartment. Dean put it in park and got out, walking around to Sam’s side just as Sam shut the passenger side door. Dean leaned against the car door standing just in front of his brother. It was silent for a minute as they just looked at each other. They were so close Sam could feel the warmth coming from Dean. The youngest was the first to speak. “So…maybe I can meet up with you later?” Dean nodded his head a toothy grin on his face, “Yeah alright.”

Before Sam could think about what he was doing he leaned down bringing his face closer to Dean. Their lips barely an inch apart. His voice cracked as he spoke the words, “I guess this is goodbye…” Dean’s own voice was deep and lust filled. “If that’s what you want.” Sam could feel his breath mixing with Dean's. One slight movement from either of them would mean no turning back. Sam’s heart raced, palms sweaty. He pressed their lips together timidly. Any strength Dean had summoned to hold back vanished. He grabbed his brother by the coat, pulling their bodies flush. They were a mess of limbs as Dean returned the kiss fiercely, he gently bit Sam’s bottom lip, causing the younger to gasp, parting his lips. Dean took advantage of the moment to slide his tongue into Sam’s mouth. Sam pawed at Dean’s leather jacket with a desperate need for their bodies to be impossibly closer. He could feel Dean's erection starting to grow, pressing into his leg. Dean spun them around picked Sam up by the hips, placing him so he was sitting on the hood of the impala, sliding between Sam’s legs. “Fuck Sammy…” the words came out raspy, desire had completely taken over logical thought. “ Gonna fuck you right here.” His hands went to work on the button of Sam ‘s jeans but were halted by Sam placing a hand over his own.

Dean knew it was over the moment he looked into Sam’s eyes, so full of shame. He saved himself the pain of being pushed away, stepping back. Once his path was clear Sam walked away he opened the door to his apartment without a look back. Dean watched his entire world walk away from him. He leaned back against the impala, furious with himself for losing control. “So much for leaving him alone you fucking idiot.” He thought to himself. More than likely he would never hear from his baby brother ever again. Perhaps that was for the best. Sam was out of the hunting life. He was safe, Dean could live the rest of his life with that thought. Even if he would never feel a moment of happiness ever again. Suddenly he heard the sound of Sam screaming inside the apartment. He rushed forward, kicking the front door in.

Sam closed the door behind him. What had he done. He had meant to just give a goodbye kiss. Closure for the way he had left things between them two years ago. How could he let his feelings for his brother cloud his judgement like that. He wasn’t sure how he would act when he had to face Jess but he could never tell her. He had never cheated in his life so the desire to fess up and be honest was strong. He could never tell her. Cheating was one thing, but admitting to her that it was his brother…never happening. He walked down the hall into the bedroom. “Jess?” He called out to her but no reply. The shower was running so she probably couldn’t hear him over the water. He laid down at the foot of the bed. His eyes closed trying to erase the past few minutes from his thoughts. Something dripped from the ceiling onto his cheek. “Great a leak in the roof.” He thought. When he opened his eyes fear over came him.

Jess was pinned to the ceiling just like his mother had been the night she died. “NO!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. In an instant she caught fire. Flames exploding forth consuming the ceiling along with her body. He screamed her name just as Dean ran into the room calling his name. Dean grabbed Sam , “We gotta get out of here.” Dean drug his brother from the apartment, Sam screaming Jessica’s name repeatedly the entire way out. The flashing of police lights could be seen bouncing off of the apartment building as Dean stood watching smoke rushing out of the windows of Sam’s bedroom. Sam stood at the back of the impala loading a shot gun from the trunk. As Dean came to stand next to him Sam’s face was void of anything but anger. He tossed the shotgun into the trunk. “We got work to do.” Was all he said before he slammed the trunk shut.

Months had passed since the night that Jess burned to death. The Winchester boys had worked every case John had left on his trail. They had hunted a wendigo, ghosts, a skinwalker, but they were no closer to finding John. Or to figuring out why Jess suffered the same fate as their mother. They were spending the night in a crappy motel room after just taking out a nasty Indian curse involving bugs in Oklahoma. It was dark in the room, both Sam and Dean were fast asleep. But Sam seemed to be having a nightmare. He tossed and turned in bed, sweat forming a shine over his features. He woke suddenly, bolting upright in bed. “Dean!” The older Winchester rolled over giving a groggy “What?” Sam stood pacing the floor as Dean sat up watching him. “I just had a dream about a family living in our old house. Something is haunting them.” Dean laid back down, covering his head with a pillow. “Sam you were six months old the last time we were there, are you sure it was our house?” Sam pulled the blankets off his brother.

“ I’ve seen it in pictures I’m sure.” Dean sat back up as Sam went on. “Dean I feel it. Somethings out to get the people living there.” Dean sighed before saying, “Will you feel better if we drive by, check things out?” Sam gave his brother a thankful look. “Please.” Twenty minutes later their duffels were packed. They hit the road towards Lawrence Kansas. Dean sat in the driver’s seat obviously pissed. “I swore to myself I'd never go back there.” Sam sat silent for a second before he finally spoke. “Dean I have these nightmares…and sometimes they come true.” Dean wasn’t feeling it. “Yeah well people have weird dreams all the time.” Sam turned to look out the window. “I dreamt about Jessica’s death for days before it happened. We have to check…just to make sure.” Dean’s anger melted away. “I know we do.” It was just past noon when they pulled up in front of the house where their lives changed forever. They both sat in the car for what seemed like forever before Sam opened the door, shortly followed by Dean. They crossed the path leading to the front door, giving an anxious knock. When a blonde woman opened the door Sam took over before Dean could.

“Hi I’m Sam Winchester this is my brother Dean. We used to live here we were just wondering if we could take a look at the house?” the woman gave a warm smile introducing herself as Jenny, inviting them in to the kitchen where her two children were. “ So how do you like the house?” said Sam. Her reply was modest. “Well no offense to your childhood home but it needs work. The wiring is bad, lights flicker constantly.” Dean gave a nervous smile. “That’s to bad.” He was beyond uncomfortable. The little girl sitting at the table spoke up timidly. “Momma ask them if it was here when they lived here.” Sam looked at her. “What is it sweetie?” She responded with the classic kid line, “The thing in my closet.” The woman jumped into the conversation. “No sweetie there wasn’t anything in their closets you were having a bad dream.” “I wasn’t dreaming! It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.” The little girls words shocked the brothers who locked eyes in silence. “Well thank you for letting us visit the house again. We better be on our way.” Dean practically drug Sam from the house. Once they were back in the impala Sam started going on about the activity in the house being a malevolent spirit. “Look I’m just freaked out by your creepy visions man ok.” Dean said, sounding a bit agitated. “Well do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jess?” Sam was just as agitated. “I don’t know.”

Dean pulled into a gas station parking the car. They got out as Dean started to fuel the impala. “We have to chill out man. We gotta treat this like any other job.” Sam agreed, “Yeah we need to look into the history of the house.” Dean replied, “Yeah but we already know it.” Sam hated to ask but he had too. “How much do you remember.” Dean’s gaze was straight ahead yet he seemed to be looking into the memory of another time. “I remember the fire…the heat…then carrying you out. You were crying. So small wrapped in a blue blanket. I knew from then on I had to take care of you. Be whatever kind of big brother you needed me to be.” Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “You did?” Dean sniffed then cleared his throat. “Yeah I did.” They drove around talking to a few of John's old friends coming up with no leads until one guy pointed them in the direction of a psychic named Missouri Mosley. Dean mentioned that the first line written in John's journal read “I went to Missouri and found out the truth.” They arrived at he door step but before they could knock it was already opening a man walked out followed by a middle age African American woman speaking in a voice as sweet as sugar. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it your wife loves you.” She turned to the boys. “Well Sam, Dean come on in I ain’t got all day.” They looked at each other before stepping in. Missouri closed the door behind them. “Poor bastard. His wife is banging the mailman.”

They followed her into the living room where she continued to speak. “You two sure did grow up handsome.” She gripped Sam’s hand and sadness took over her face. “Aww Sam your dad’s missing? And I’m sorry about your girlfriend but you need to follow what your heart is telling you it needs.” Her eyes darted over to Dean as she said the last part. Dean chuckled, Sam swallowed hard. She took a seat in a recliner while motioning for them to sit on the couch. As they did so Dean’s thoughts strayed to if she knew about him and Sam. Could she see the times they had made love? Guess none of that mattered now since Sam could hardly bare to look at him. She pointed a finger at him, “Boy don’t you have those pervy thoughts about your brother in my house. And you need to have more confidence in yourself. Those scars on your back are proof that you’re good at what you do.” She smiled, Sam’s jaw practically hit the floor, Dean made a shocked choking sound. “I…I wasn’t thinking.” She laughed. “Mmhmm, you can’t lie to me boy.”

She told them everything she knew about what had happened the night their mother died. As well as the fact there was indeed a bad spirit in the house. She recalled everything she could for them about John coming to visit her. Most importantly she told them that she didn’t know what killed their Mom but that it was pure evil. She invited them for dinner where they fully enjoyed a home cooked meal. Just before sending them on their way she hugged them both before saying, “Don’t worry your secret is safe with me. Love doesn’t know wrong, you two need to talk about your feelings.” They booked a room at a motel in town, settling in for the night. They both sat on their own beds in silence for awhile. Dean looked over at Sam, clearing his throat. “You wanna talk about what Missouri said?” Sam tried to play dumb. “About dad?” Dean rose and sat at the foot of Sam's bed. “About us?” Sam laughed it off. “What were you thinking about when she called you a perv?” Dean gave a serious look before saying bluntly, “Fucking your brains out on this bed.” It was meant to be a joke in bad taste. “Then do it.” Dean laughed for a second before he gave Sam a confused look.

“Wait what?” Sam noticed the look of hope in Dean's eyes. But right now Sam just wanted to forget everything. Sam bit his bottom lip, “Do it.” He took the invitation, laying Sam back on the bed, climbing on top of him, pressed between the younger man’s legs. He sealed their lips in a passionate kiss. Sam arched his body up against Dean, wrapping his legs around his brothers hips. Dean moved his mouth to Sam’s neck, kissing and licking the soft skin there, biting it with force but not enough to cause real pain. Sam moaned at the sensation, running his hands down the length of deans strong back, up under the shirt tracing the slight rise of the scars up to the shoulder blades lifting the shirt and pulling it off his brother. Dean worked his tongue up Sam’s neck to his ear where he whispered, “God I’ve wanted to feel your hands again for so long Sammy. Gonna fuck you so good all night long.” Sam moaned in response as Dean pulled his younger brother's shirt off putting his tongue back to work down Sam’s chest to his stomach pausing just above his jeans button. His hands went to work undoing the button along with the zipper in a flash. He pulled the jeans down along with Sam’s boxers to his knees. Sam was already fully hard.

He licked his lips before taking it into his mouth. Sam gasped bucking his hips up into Dean’s mouth. And Dean took him to the hilt like a pro. Working his mouth up and down Sam’s length, deep throating him. Sam’s fingers ran through Dean’s hair as he groaned. “Fuck Dean, feels so good.” Dean picked up the pace, wrapping a hand around Sam’s shaft, quickening his movements. Before long he had reduced Sam into a whimpering, moaning, mess. Sam couldn’t take much more. “De…gonna cum…fuck!” As soon as the words left his lips he came into Dean's mouth. His big brother continuing to suck him down to the hilt as he swallowed the load, intent on getting every single drop out of Sam. When he was finished he pulled Sam’s cock out of his mouth with a wet pop sound, swallowing. Sam was still whimpering, shaking from the shocks of his orgasm. Dean pulled Sam's jeans and boxers the rest of the way off, throwing them on the floor to be forgotten.

He left the bed long enough to retrieve a bottle of lube from his duffel bag returning to stand at the foot of the bed. His eyes never left Sam’s as he undid his belt and jeans pulling them off along with his boxer briefs in one swift motion before returning to rest between Sam’s legs again. He kissed his brother passionately. Sliding his tongue into Sam’s mouth making him taste his own cum. “You really want this Sammy? Want big brother to make love to you?” Sam ran a hand down Dean's chest, “No, fuck me…hard.” Dean stroked his full hard cock as Sam watched. “Want me to fuck your brains out? I promise you're gonna walk with a limp tomorrow.” Sam licked his lips nodding a yes.

Dean popped the cap of the lube pouring some out onto his fingers , pressing his middle finger against Sam’s entrance. “You sure?” Sam replied with a yes, bucking his hips against Dean's finger. Dean pushed one finger in. Sam’s eyes grew wide, he hissed, gritting his teeth together. Dean waited a moment for Sammy to adjust. It had been two years since Sam had sex with anyone but a woman and would need to be stretched again to take Dean. He worked in a second finger, scissoring them back and forth, stretching Sam’s hole before adding a third and finally a forth. If he was really going to take Sam hard he needed to be sure he was open. With the forth finger Sam tensed up, Dean held still for a few minutes waiting before he continued. Once Sam started moaning and reached down taking his own once again hard cock into his hand and began stroking it Dean knew he was ready. He pulled his fingers out of Sam. Earning a whine of complaint.

He once again popped the top on the lube this time coating his cock with it. He tossed the bottle onto the floor and arched Sam’s hips for a better angle. Sam’s height was much different than the last time they were together and he would have to adjust for it so that he could still reach Sam’s face as he fucked him. He pressed the tip of his length against his lovers entrance, leaning down to kiss Sam before pushing in past the first ring of muscle. He hissed out a sharp breath while Sam squirmed beneath him. “Fuck Sammy, you’re tighter than I remember.” It took a moment before he was fully surrounded by Sam. Looking into his brothers eyes he asked one final time, “Ready?” Sam locked eyes with him and responded. “Fuck me De…hard. Don’t hold back.” Dean pulled out to the head. Slamming back into Sam. The headboard crashed into the wall behind it at the same time as Sam let out a yelp. Dean repeated, pulling out to the tip and slamming back into Sam with each thrust. He placed Sam's legs over his shoulders, one palm flat against the wall behind the bed, finding a rhythm he sped up his movement. Pounding Sam ruthlessly.

The bed creaked beneath them as the headboard continued to slam into the wall. Sam was coming apart under Dean. He had already cum again twice his stomach slick with it, yet Dean wasn’t close to stopping. He pushed Sam further and further towards climax again with the words he spoke as he pounded his brother's ass. “Fuck Sammy, so tight. Yeah that’s it baby boy cum again for big brother. Gonna fuck you til you pass out.” Dean scooped up some of Sam’s cum from his stomach. Pushing his fingers into the younger man’s mouth, Sam eagerly closed his lips around Dean’s fingers, sucking and licking them clean. “How’s that taste? Want some more? God you’re so fucking hot Sammy. You’re loving it. Me feeding you your own cum.” Sam came a forth time the mess on his stomach spilling over onto the sheets. Sam moaned loudly riding the high of his orgasm. “De can’t take anymore please. Need you to cum.” Dean smirked a devilish grin. “Oh no baby boy I’m not there yet.” Dean couldn’t stop. He slammed into Sam so hard the bed shifted. The headboard was pressed flat against the wall now only making a dull thump from lack of space to give under Dean's hard thrusts. Sam was finished he couldn’t take anymore. He’d cum two more times and now he was so exhausted he wouldn’t even get hard again. Dean finally gave a deep grunt and said, “Gonna cum for you baby boy. Want me to cum in your tight little ass?” Sam somehow found words to say, “De please!” and Dean delivered.

He slammed into Sam one final time spilling his load into the younger man with a loud moan. Sam whimpered and squirmed under Dean. He could feel Dean's cock throbbing, feel the liquid heat of cum shooting out into him. Once every last drop was inside Sam the older Winchester pulled out, his cock glistening with cum, still rock hard for the moment. His load leaked out of Sam onto the bed, Sam’s hole red and open still. Sam relaxed into the mattress as Dean leaned down he gently kissed his forehead, cheeks, lips. He leaned over picking his shirt up off the floor and used it to clean Sam’s cum covered stomach before picking him up and laying him on the other bed where they could sleep. He crawled into bed next to Sam who snuggled up close. “Love you De.” Dean smiled and replied, “Love you more baby boy.” Sam was asleep almost immediately. Dean held him for awhile before he drifted off himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please be sure to leave kudos and comment. They give me strength to continue. Hope everyone is enjoying.
> 
> Kyna


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys work the case in Lawrence with Missouri. Dean deals with Sam using him the night before. Enemies appear.

Sam woke with a pleasant ache consuming most of his body. He stretched his arms and legs out, enjoying the feeling of his muscles complaint of over use. His butt was the most sore. Dean had really went full out. Jess would only last less than an hour before she would force Sam to cum and be done. With Dean there was always multiple orgasms and you could guarantee you’d need to clear hours off your schedule. This feeling would last a few days. A pleasant reminder of Dean having been inside him where ever they went. The oldest Winchester was still sleeping peacefully. Sam lay there watching his brothers chest rise and fall. Could he really do this? What he had done was selfish. He’d taken advantage of Dean's feelings for him, along with his brothers almost none existent ability to refuse his desire to be inside him. He’d tricked Dean into fucking him so savagely to erase the guilt of Jess’ death for a short time. Now without the feel of Dean’s touch the emotions flooded back. He’d kissed his brother just moments before she died. He had betrayed her. And now he had betrayed the man he loved as well.

Dean started to stir, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stretched, rolling onto his back looking up at Sam. “Morning.” He said, placing a gentle kiss on Sam’s hip. He pulled his little brother down bringing him to lay across his chest. Dean’s half hard morning wood pressed into Sam’s hip, as his hands cupped his ass, biting into his neck. The younger man laughed out loud. “Really Dean, you’re insatiable.” Dean gave a half hearted chuckle. “You feel like round two baby boy?” Sam stood up removing the temptation of himself from his older brother. “Dean we have work to do. That thing is still in that house.” Dean slapped Sam’s bare ass, smiling at the gasp of shock he earned before hopping up out of the bed. “Come on let’s take a shower. We can grab some grub before we start the hunt.” Sam didn’t look at Dean as he spoke. “I’d like to shower by myself.” Dean’s smile grew shamelessly wicked as he watched Sam walk to the bathroom, a hitch in his step. “Don’t use all the hot water.”

  
As Sam stood under the steaming water pouring from the shower head he gave a soft moan. It soothed his aching muscles, stung sweetly as it hit his abused entrance. As he soaped himself he started to notice small bruises from Dean’s defined hip bones on his inner thighs. Finger print shapes of light purple on the backs of his knees from large hands holding up his legs as he was drilled into. He’d always had to be gentle with Jess. He’d missed the rough way his brother fucked. A smile spread across his face at the thoughts of Dean. He could fuck you like a god with ease or gently make love to you like you were made of glass. Which ever Sam would ask for Dean would happily obey. The shower curtain pulled back taking Sam out of his thoughts, his eyes met with emerald green ones as Dean stepped into the shower, the water no longer pouring over Sam’s sore body but rolling off Dean's shoulders. “Dude you were gonna use all the hot water.” He said with a playboy grin. Sam laughed. He hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

  
The Winchesters sat across from each other in a local diner at a small table. They barely fit due to Sam’s long legs taking up most of the space. Unfortunately the place was packed and there weren’t any other options. A bubbly dark haired waitress came over to the table filling their coffee cups and setting down sugar packets along with cream for Sam. “Hi I’m Samantha I’ll be your server today. What can I get started for you?” Dean smiled at her, “Samantha, that’s such a pretty name.” Sam didn’t seem to think it was cute. He kicked Dean under the table. Dean looked down at his menu and ordered the Double bacon cheese burger deluxe with fries. Sam ordered egg whites with fresh fruit. “Alright I’ll get that started for you.” Sam stared Dean down, not amused by the cheeky smirk on his brother's face. “Really De?” Dean sipped his black coffee. “Samantha are you jealous of Samantha?” Sam sighed, Dean was going to be giddy and immature all day. He had always been this way after a night of great sex. The food arrived at the table and Dean dug into his burger, wiping ketchup from his lip with the back of his hand. Sam groaned, “How do you eat like you eat, and look how you look?” Dean chewed his food swallowed and with a toothy grin replied. “Fucking you is a great way to burn calories.”

Dean pressed his knee against the crotch of Sam’s jeans under the table. Causing his brother to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Sam placed a fork full of egg whites into his mouth. It was going be one of those days. As they cleaned their plates Dean left a twenty on the table. “Come on let’s pick up Missouri and head to the house. Maybe she can feel something and figure out what it is we’re dealing with. Before They could knock on the psychic’s front door she called out to them from inside to come on in. They stepped in to find Missouri dressed and ready to go. She looked them up and down. “Well I’m glad to see you boys working it out.” Dean gave a shit eating grin while Sam blushed.

  
They pulled up to their old house getting out of the car. Dean opened the back door extending a hand to Missouri helping her out. She pinched his cheek, calling him a peach. Jenny answered their knock with a distraught look in her eyes. She was holding her baby boy to her chest. “Hey Jenny this is our friend Missouri. We were wondering if she could take a look at the house.” , said Dean. She told them it wasn’t a good time. Dean spoke sternly, “Listen Jenny it’s important… ow!” Missouri had smacked him in the back of the head, taking over the conversation. “Cut it out, can’t you see this poor girls upset. Forgive him dear he means well he’s just not the sharpest tool in the shed if you know what I mean.” Sam smirked. Dean stood stiff as Missouri continued, “But hear me out about this house.” Jenny asked what about it. “I think you know dear. You think there’s something in this house that wants to hurt your family. We can help you. If you trust us just a little.” She let them into the house.

  
The boys followed Missouri to a room where she said there was a bad energy. “This room should be the center of it.” Sam chimed in with a why. “This used to be your nursery Sam, this is where it all happened.” Sam and Dean both looked up at the ceiling. The sound of Dean turning on an emf detector rang in the room. Missouri turned to look at him and simply said. “Amateur.” She ran her hand over objects in the room as if trying to feel energy coming from them. “There is a spirit here but it’s not a ghost. It’s a poltergeist. No bones to salt and burn. We’re going to have to bury these in the walls.” She pulled a box from her purse. She already knew what the boys were going to ask.

“They’re spell bags. If we bury them in the north, south , east, and west corners of the house that thing won’t be bothering these people no more.” She handed two bags to each of them and the boys set off after telling Jenny to take the kids out to a movie. They both placed one in the walls of bedrooms up stairs then as Dean moved to the kitchen Sam moved to the living room. In one room Dean was busting a small hole in the kitchen wall as Sam did the same in the living room. Dean slide his bag into the wall with no problems. Things didn’t go so well for Sam. Just as Sam lifted his hand to place the last spell bag in place a lamp cord wrapped tightly around his throat. He struggled to pull it off but the spirit was to strong. It was choking the life from him. He knew he would die in that moment. As he slowly felt the burning need for air to fill his lungs all he could think of was Dean. How broken his brother would be that he died in this place just as their Mom did. Memories of Dean flashed before his eyes.

* * *

 

They lay side by side on the hood of the impala parked in a decrepit grave yard that was located in the middle of the woods. A beer in hand staring at the stars, laughing together, smiling. A twenty-two year old Dean’s jeans had yet to be buttoned or zipped, flannel button up shirt lay open exposing his naked chest along with the deep V cut of his hips. Nineteen year old Sam was naked covered only by his brother's faded leather jacket over his hips. Both in complete post coital glow. “I still can't believe you actually fell in the grave.” Dean teased. Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever dude you pushed me in there.” The older Winchester stood guilty as charged yet insisted it was the ghost who’s bones they had earlier salted and burned before a slow, gentle lovemaking session. Sam, still staring at the stars spoke so low Dean could barely hear him. “De…promise me it’ll always be this way.” Dean leaned over, pressing his forehead to his baby brother's. “Forever and always.”

Sam pushed his brother away just enough to stare into the deep emerald pools that were Dean's eyes. “I’m serious De. You were my first. I want you to be my last.” There was a shyness in his voice that warmed Dean to the soul. “Anything you want Sammy.” He fished in his jeans pocket but whatever he pulled out Sam couldn’t see. Dean slipped something cold and metallic onto his brother's finger. Sam held his hand up to see a silver band around his wedding ring finger. He placed his hand over Sam’s to show an identical band on his own finger. “I’m yours , forever and always.”

* * *

 

The room was fading to black. Soft helpless gasps escaped Sam’s lips as the lamp fell from the table, glass shattering on the floor.

* * *

 

Sam stood outside the abandoned house they’d been squatting in, his duffel bag over his shoulder. Even though he knew he shouldn’t wake Dean he wanted nothing more than to run inside, tell him what John had seen, what he said. Dean would beg him to run away with him. To find some place where they could be lovers in the open. Somewhere nobody knew the same blood flowed through their veins. But hunters were everywhere. They could never be out. The Winchester’s were just short of legend. He placed the silver band on the bottom step of the porch, turned and walked away. He passed the impala laying a hand on her trunk. His focus on the place where they had carved their initials into the back interior as kids until he was blinded by tears.

* * *

 

He could faintly hear Dean calling his name. Foot steps approaching fast.

* * *

 

Sam sat in the courtyard facing the student parking of Stanford University. His friend chatting him up about this party that was happening at phi gamma theta house that evening. “Dude there’s gonna be some super hot chicks there. You gotta be my wing man. This chick Ashley is endgame! I need you to entertain her friend Jessica while I bang her. Dude?” Sam was staring at the 67 Chevy parked at the back of the lot. “You a fan of classic cars?” Sam gave a halfhearted “Yeah, something like that.” Later that night he sat on the front steps of the frat house with Jessica. They sipped their beer from plastic cups while talking about the new action movie starring some guy they’d never heard of. “So Friday at the main street theater?” she asked. He gave a warm smile, “Yeah, it’s a date.” She gave him a small peck on the cheek, locking eyes with him just before leaning closer, pressing her lips to his. A man wearing a faded leather jacket walking down the sidewalk came into view. Sam turned to see the persons back profile.

Short brown hair, broad shoulders, a silver band on the ring finger. Sam jumped up running after the man, calling out to him. “Dean!”. The man didn’t turn around, instead he took off running. Sam followed but he wasn’t fast enough to catch up until Dean dipped around a corner into an alley between two houses. As Sam rounded the corner he was gone. Stepping back out to the street he searched everywhere for the impala but saw nothing. Giving in he walked back up to Jessica who wore a confused look on her face. “Where did you go?” Sam shrugged before saying, “Thought I saw someone I used to know.” She stood in front of him and held out her hand, leading him inside. He stumbled drunkenly out onto the porch as the party came to an end, he stepped on something on the bottom step causing him to almost lose balance. As he lifted his foot to see what the offending object was his heart sank at the sight of the silver band laying there. He picked it up, anger at himself swelling inside. He threw it across the front yard before turning to walk back to his dorm.

* * *

 

Dean’s hands were trying desperately to pry the cord away from Sam’s throat. When it wouldn’t budge he quickly grabbed the spell bag from the floor kicked a hole in the wall and slammed the bag home. A bright flash of light engulfed the room just as the cord lost its grip on Sam. “Sammy!” Dean scrambled to his feet pulling the cord from around his brother who took deep gasps, holding him closely in his arms. Sam could feel the cold metal of Dean’s ring pressed against the back of his neck. Dean would never know in that moment just how much Sam hated himself.

  
Jenny returned home with the kids a short time after, kissing both boys on the cheek. “Thank you so much for everything.” The boys told her it was nothing it was what they do. She gave them a box she had found in the house saying she was sure it was theirs. They walled out with Missouri, helping her into the car. They took her home, walked her to the door. After pinches on the cheek for Dean she turned to Sam. “Boy you better tell him the truth. He needs to know. About then and now.” His eyes never left the ground, Dean's never left Sam.

She walked into the house laying her purse down on a table in the foyer. “That boy Sam has some strong powers, I'm not sure what is happening to him but why he couldn’t sense his own father I’d have to guess is because he’s afraid of you .” John Winchester sat on the couch in her living room his head in his hands. “Dean was supposed to be alone…if Sam is with him he will drag his brother right back in to what I put a stop to two years ago.” She laughed out loud. “Well it’s to late for that Johnny boy. Dean is giving it to that boy so good I think he’s gonna break the kids back.” Johns face bore disgust. “You need to stop blaming Sam. Dean is a grown man. He knew what he was getting into when he gave into his own urges. Just talk to them, they’re in love John. Let them be happy.” John clinched his fist so tight his nails bit into his skin. “That I can not do.”

  
Back at the motel the younger Winchester was taking the longest shower ever. Avoiding the fact that Dean would undoubtedly want an answer for what Missouri had said. The woman had zero filter, she let it all out. The water ran cold and he could avoid it no more. Standing in front of the fogged mirror clad in grey sweatpants he took a deep breath, walking out to face his brother. Dean was sitting on the bed they’d spent the night together in, looking through the contents of the box from Jenny, pictures of their family when they were kids. A beer in hand. He was so beautiful. His body the perfect example of masculinity, those broad shoulders, curve in his back, muscled stomach, firm hips that lead to strong legs. “What did Missouri mean when she said the truth?” Sam sat on the opposite bed. “She was talking about last night.” Sam said with a sigh. “What about it?” said Dean. The younger sat in silence, starring at the floor. “Come on Sam. We both know the only thing that happened last night. We fucked, the way you asked for it. Tell me what I did wrong.” Sam couldn’t possibly loath himself anymore. “Nothing Dean it’s not you.” Here it comes. “Are you seriously gonna pull the it’s not you it’s me line?”

“Dean I only slept with you last night because I wanted to distract myself from everything…from being here…from Jess.” Dean’s posture grew stiff. “You used me?” Sam found no words to make it sound better. “Yeah…” Dean’s face contorted in a mix of pain and anger before settling on fury. He slammed his empty beer bottle into the wall, jerking Sam up by the arm, pressing their lips together in a forceful kiss. Sam turned to putty in his big brother's hands, moaning into Dean’s mouth, going half limp in his arms. Dean let Sam’s body slide down onto the bed. He grabbed the keys, slamming the door behind him. “I’m sorry…” Sam’s words seemed to echo in the empty room.

  
Dean sat at a local dive bar a few blocks away from the motel. He had just slammed his eighth shot of whiskey, calling to the bartender for another round. There was a woman sitting at the end of the bar who moved to sit next to him. “I’ll have what he’s having.” Dean gave her a roguish smirk before ordering two scotch on the rocks. The bar tender placed the shots and scotch glasses on the bar. “I’m Danni. Cheers.” They clinked the glasses together and downed the shots. “Dean.” She gave him a warm smile. “Well Dean what’s her name?” Dean laughed. “What makes you think there’s a her?” She sipped her scotch. “Honey the speed you’re turning over those shot glasses screams broken heart.” Dean’s smile faded. “His name is Sam.” She rubbed his shoulder. “Aww sweetheart. You want to talk about it.” Dean downed his scotch in a single gulp before ordering two more. He turned to Danni, pointing at a dart board in the corner. “Wanna play?” her smile reached ear to ear.

  
Danni wasn’t very good at darts but Dean was a pro. He hit his intended mark every round. So accurately she started just calling out random numbers for him to hit with his eyes closed. When he succeeded every time she gave up throwing her hands in the air. “That Sam is a fool to treat you this way. You’re a catch.” Dean smiled bashfully, the nine shots and two scotches beginning to kick in. “So he flat out told you he used you the other night…so that he wouldn’t have to think about his dead girlfriend. Harsh.” Dean downed his third scotch. “After everything we’ve been through, everything I’ve done for him. I tired to stay away but I just…when I’m with him…alone…I can’t stop myself.” She brushed a few locks of stray bangs from his forehead back into place. “Hey sweetie, it’s ok. You wanna know what I think?” Dean looked at her like a lost little puppy dog.

“Haha aww. You’re to cute for words. I think that the reason he ended it before was because there’s something he was trying to save you from. What that is I don’t know. But he did what he thought was right by you. As for now…I can’t believe I’m going to say this but…if he needs to use you…maybe you should let him. You both have healing to do that’s obvious. Why not use each other. Lick each other’s wounds so to say.” Dean gave her a tight hug. “That doesn’t sound half bad. Thank you. I never got to be the hot gay friend before.” He gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. As Dean bid her goodbye she watched him walk out the door, her eyes flashing solid black.

  
Dean stumbled his way back into the motel room around 5 am. He laid his keys on the nightstand next to Sam’s bed, pulled back the covers and slid in spooning his brother. Sam woke turned over quickly, sat up placing his palms on Dean's shoulders. “Dean! Where were you?” Dean pressed a finger tip over Sam’s lips, tracing the soft skin there with it. “Shhh….my head hurts.” Sam sighed. “You’re drunk.” Dean gave a drunken giggle. “Only a lot. But I gotta tell you….that…uhh…if what was it? Oh yeah, if you need to use me go ahead. But don’t be upset if I use you too.” Sam laughed out loud. “De you’re drunk.” Dean pushed Sam into the mattress, climbing on top of him. “Who you calling drunk?” Dean placed wet kisses on Sam’s face before locating his lips. “Gonna….Sam stop spinning….gonna use you right now.” Dean rolled over onto his back, undid the button of his jeans. Pulling the zipper down he pushed his hand in to pull his cock out and passed out cold his hand still in his pants. Sam sighed, pulled the covers back over them, before laying back down himself.

The demon called Danni was walking across the parking lot of the bar. Looking to her left she noticed another woman leaning against her car. She blinked black eyes at her to which the other girl responded with her own black orbs. Walking up to the car fishing keys from a clutch purse she spoke. “Meg.” The demon called Meg sneered at Danni. “What are you doing? Azazel wants Sam. He will be our boy king.” Danni laughed sarcastically. “You’re all betting on the wrong horse. The king of hell will be Dean Winchester. I can feel it. Your Sam is to weak. And when my king rises from the belly of hell I, his most loyal servant will bask in victory.” Meg rolled her eyes. “You’re a fool if you think he will come openly into your arms.” Danni swayed on her feet dramatically, fanning herself. “I shall writhe beneath my king! In ecstasy as he rips me to shreds.” Meg spoke her next words as if they were a command. “He doesn’t have the blood. He can’t win. Azazel will hear of this.” Black smoke flew from Danni's mouth flying across the sky into the night the body she possessed hit the ground with a thud. Meg slit it’s throat letting the blood pour into a bowl. “Thanks dear I needed to make a call.” She kicked the corpse. Turning to walk into the night.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John confronts Sam and Dean. The boys visit an old friend. More enemies appear. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains character death in a vision based off the first times Sam and Dean die in canon. This isn’t actual death of the characters. This only serves as a way to forward the plot.

[](https://ibb.co/jgLpbm)   
[](https://imgbb.com/)  


Dean woke the next morning to a pulsing headache. He sat up in bed rubbing his temples, his hand searching the bed for Sam. All it found were empty sheets. “Sammy…?” His voice was gravely, mouth dry. Foot steps could be heard approaching the bed just before new weight was added to the mattress. Sam placed a glass in his brothers hand. Dean opened his eyes, sunlight burning them. The contents of the glass made his stomach turn, two raw eggs, hot sauce and black pepper mixed in. “A Prairie Oyster? Fuck me.” Dean tilted the glass up swallowing it down. Hand reaching for what he knew was next. Two Advil and hair of the dog. He popped the pills in his mouth, swallowing them down with a gulp of warm whiskey. “Thank you.” He moved to stand stumbling out of bed still wearing his clothes from the day before, picking up his bag he made his way to the bathroom for a long hot shower.

  
When he came back into the room wearing clean clothes and feeling refreshed he found Sam sitting on the bed, head hung in shame, fear radiating from him. He wasn’t alone, John Winchester sat at the small table at the front of the room. He dropped his bag running to his father pulling him into his arms. “Dad! We’ve been so worried. Where have you been?” John Winchester didn’t embrace his son. “Sit down Dean. Sam has something to tell you.” Dean moved to sit on the opposite bed from his brother. Looking to Sam for clarity. It was a moment before Sam spoke. “He knows Dean.” Dean sat there waiting for more. “The day I left for Stanford….he saw us. Told me I needed to leave. That I wasn’t his son anymore…I was sending you to hell.”

  
Dean made eye contact with John as their fathers voice boomed into life. “You weren’t supposed to get your brother you stupid boy. I thought I raised a good solider but you’re just like your brother. Bad seed!” Dean clenched his fist in anger. “That’s why you left me? Because of him?” John didn’t give his youngest the chance to answer. “Damn it boy! I spent all that time out looking for the thing that killed your mother all I asked of you was to take care of Sammy. You repay me by letting your brother turn you into a pervert like him? I don’t even want to know how long you two were doing this behind my back. Letting your baby brother rut under you like a bitch in heat. You’re just as much to blame as he is. You knew better. All you had to do was be a good brother.” Dean stood in anger. Fists clenched at his sides. “I had to be more than a brother! Thanks to you!” Dean was shouting at the top of his lungs. “I had to be a father because you were never there. A mother because he didn’t have anybody to wipe his nose or kiss his scraped knees to make them feel better! And yeah dad….I had to be his lover…because you never kept us in the same school for more than a month. Sam never had any time to get a girlfriend. I was the only constant in his life and he in mine. So yeah we fell in love. And we fought it, for a long time. Because we didn’t want to disappoint you.” John stared at his oldest, jaw hung open in shock.

“I died the day my brother walked out of my life. And now that he’s back you won’t take him from me again. This is who we are. If you don’t like it you can leave.” Sam looked up at Dean, shocked his brother was taking such a stand against John. For him…because he loved him. John tried to shift the blame. “You really think you’ve been helping anybody? While you’ve been here…fucking your brother I’ve found the thing that killed my Mary! A yellow eyed demon! Named Azazel! Mary would be so disappointed in what her boys have become.” Sam stood up, practically screaming. “GET OUT!” John and Dean both stared at him.

“I said get the fuck out. Never talk to my brother that way again, to either of us again!” John walked to the door, just before he slammed it shut his final words he’d ever speak to his sons were, “You’re both dead to me.” The boys stood in silence for what seemed like eternity. They moved at the same time, arms around each other in a tight hug. They embraced, neither one saying a word. Just helping the other through the emotions with touch.

  
It seemed like a lifetime before they separated. Dean moved about the room gathering their few belongings and packing them into their bags. A smile drifted across his face. “I think it’s time to go home.” He said as he threw both duffels over his shoulder. A warm feeling washed over Sam as he spoke. “Yeah…the old man’s going to be happy to see us. It’s been to long.” They walked out of the room hand in hand.  
The impala purred as it pulled into the drive way of Singer's salvage yard. Dean threw it in park in front of the house and both boys practically ran out of the car. They wrestled each other up the stairs as the door opened. An old man in a truckers hat stepped out, almost knocked down to the ground by the two sets of arms wrapping around him in a tight hug. The boys spoke in unison, “Bobby!”. The old man chuckled a bit hugging back just as intensely. “Alright alright! What you two tryna do squeeze me to death?” the boys finally let go standing in front of Bobby, both smiling ear to ear. The old man rubbed the top of their heads, ruffling their hair.

“Come on in we gotta catch up.” The three of them entered the house Sam and Dean sitting on the couch as Bobby eased into his recliner. “So you boys here cause of the signs?” the brothers gave each other a curious glance. “What signs?” Dean asked. “Cattle massacres, natural disasters, crops dying all around town. Sounds to me like we got a demon problem.” The boys sat up at attention. “Dad said the thing that killed mom was a demon.” Said Dean. Bobby nodded his head. “Yeah he called me when he found out. Wouldn’t say where he was but that the yellow eyed thing that got Mary was a demon named Azazel.” If Bobby noticed the way Sam shifted uncomfortably at the mention of John he didn’t let it show. “There’s a local bar in town called ‘The Full Moon.’ It’s usually a pretty quiet place for locals but lately it’s been getting rowdy. You boys should check it out tonight.” With that said Bobby went to the kitchen to make dinner as the boys brought their things in.

  
They ran up the stairs to the old room they used to share when they were kids. Bobby had kept it the same. Their toys, knives, and books were still where they had left them. They smirked at each other noticing that the queen sized bed they used to share was still the only one in the room. They shared a few secret kisses before heading back down stairs to join Bobby in the kitchen. The smell of food greeted them upon entering the room. They sat at the table watching the old man cook.

\-----

A middle aged man sat in a fancy chair located in a beautiful house just at the edge of town in Sioux Falls. His yellow eyes bore a vicious wicked gleam as a young woman with short blonde hair and a young man with brown hair pulled the demon named Danni into the room, kicking and screaming to kneel before him. Her new meat suit a beautiful red haired woman. His voice was tainted with malicious laughter as he spoke. “A little birdy tells me that you have been batting for the wrong team?” Danni's black eyes wore a look of fear. “Sir I’ve foreseen it. The boy isn’t strong enough for the role you wish of him. The fates lay with the older Winchester.” Azazel’s yellow eyes shone brightly with anger. “Silence! Twenty two years ago I gave my blood to Sam Winchester. He is one of many that I have chosen to fight to become our King. He alone is the strongest of my prospects.” His voice practically tasted of a sense of pride. “He has the most potential.” Danni tired to break free in an attempt to make a run for it. The male demon holding her tightened his grip as the blonde woman shoved her face to the floor, pressing her boot into the back of Danni’s neck. “Fuck you Meg!” she spat. Meg smiled an evil grin, tucking a lose strand of hair behind her ear.

  
Azazel sat quietly for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. “My affections might be altered. Tell me what you have forseen.” He waved a hand at Meg, who reluctantly removed her foot to allow Danni to sit up. Her tone of voice was as if she spoke of a lover. “The third eye has gifted me with sight. I have seen him, the one named Dean. A righteous man tearing flesh from souls in the pit. I have seen him rise from the grave eyes black as night. I’ve seen him surrounded by our knights . They bow to him.” Azazel stood, walked to her, placing a head on her head. She shot upright, facing the ceiling, eyes glowing yellow. Visions of the future played like a film before his eyes.

* * *

  
Dean sat in a decrepit old shack of a house. Sam’s lifeless body before him placed lovingly on a filthy old mattress. Tears streaming down his eyes as he spoke softly to his brother. His voice cracked with an ache that reached the heart of the universe. “I had one job….and I screwed it up…and for that I’m sorry.” He wiped the tears from his eyes. “Guess that’s just what I do…I let Dad down…I let you down…how am I supposed to live with that? Live with out you…”. The tears flowed more freely, his hands shaking. “What am I supposed to do Sammy?” He stood. His whole body shaking with rage and pain that needed to be released. He screamed at the top of his lungs. “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!”

* * *

  
The images seemed to jump farther into the future.

* * *

  
Dean covered the small box he placed into the earth with dirt as he stood in the middle of a crossroads. A gorgeous woman dressed in black with eyes as red as blood appeared before him, a crossroads demon. “Oh Dean it’s so good to see you.” She purred at him. His voice was deep, hatred laced the tip of his tongue. “My soul for Sammy’s life. And in ten years you can collect. Sam gets to live a long normal life. That’s the deal on the table. Take it or another demon will.” She raised a brow at him. “You must be joking.” He clenched his fist. “It’s the same deal you give everybody else.” “But why would I want to give you anything? You can keep your filthy soul it’s tarnished. Ruined by your indulgence of your years in the sin of carnal knowledge of your brother.” He gave her a look of pure disgust. “Five years or no deal.” She turned to walk away from him. “Make sure you bury Sam before he starts to stink.” He spun around facing her back. “Wait! What do I have to do?” She faced him once again. “Look I shouldn’t be doing this but what can I say, I got a blind spot for you Dean. You get until sun rise. Sam gets a long normal life. What do you say?” Dean didn’t even hesitate. He pressed his lips to hers, sealing the deal with a kiss. She broke away from his lips with a laugh of wicked delight. “Better run back to that brother of yours. Dawn comes in five hours.”

* * *

  
The film like vision flashed forward again.

* * *

  
It had been only moments since Dean returned to the shack to find Sam alive. He sealed his arms around his little brother as if it were the last time he ever would. In haste he explained the deal he’d made for Sam’s life. They made love one finale time. Slow and soft. Both with tears falling from their eyes onto each other as they tried to remember the feel of the other. An hour before dawn they sat on the ground in front of the impala. Clinging to one another for dear life. Sam sobbed out the words. “De no matter what it takes I’ll get you back. I’ll find a way.” Dean pressed a hand to his brothers face. A warm smile on his lips. “Hey. You’ll move on. Promise me. Get out of this life Sammy. Find a pretty girl and have pretty babies. Become a lawyer. Do all the things you’ve always wanted. All the things I’ve always kept you from having.” Dean died in his brothers arms as the sun rose over the top of the trees. Sam and Bobby buried his body in the woods in Sioux falls. Until Sam could find a way to bring him back.

* * *

  
Azazel sneered as the film once again flashed forward.

* * *

  
Scenes of Sam trying to summon crossroads demons repeatedly to sell his own soul for Dean's but no-one showing. A year had passed. The ground above Dean's grave crumbled as hands reached up through the surface. He emerged covered in dirt. Eyes as black as night. The hordes of demons that surrounded the grave bowed to him chanting the words. “Rex Inferorum.” Dean cracked his neck. His eyes searched the crowd as he boomed his first command. “Find Sam Winchester.” Black smoke boomed from the mouths of the bodies around him flying off into the night in all directions.

* * *

  
The final vision came.

* * *

  
Dean stood in the middle of a grave yard. The gates to hell open behind him, demons flowing out to all corners of the country. He aimed an ancient looking colt at Azazel's head. Sam was on his knees, drinking blood from a cut in Dean's wrist. Sam seemed in pure ecstasy from the demon blood that flowed from his brother. “You and your fucking scum got my Sammy addicted to your shit blood while I was away taking over hell. For that there will be no mercy.” Dean pulled the trigger, as the bullet entered Azazel's skull lightening seemed to flash inside his hosts body. His body fell to the floor, dead. Dean lowered the colt, pulling his wrist away from Sam’s mouth, earning a whimper from his lover as the cut healed as soon as it left Sam’s lips. “Shh baby boy. There’s more where that came from. You’re mine. Nothing will ever separate us again.”

* * *

 

Azazel paced the room , anger on his face. His plans would go wrong. Sam was to lead the army of hell. Not the other one. He had to stop it. Change the future. If Dean became the king of hell he would stop at nothing until he had killed Azazel for what he had done to his brother. With a snap of his fingers Danni seemed to vomit out black smoke weakly. The essence of her demon form pouring into the floor which glowed red like the flames of hell. “Have fun back in the pit bitch.” He kicked the body of the girl she possessed before another snap of his fingers caused the girl to explode. Splattering everyone in the room with her blood. “Meg you will go to the full moon bar tonight. Make sure that Sam continues to be tainted by his brother. We need his soul as full of sin as we can get it. He needs to indulge in his brother as much and as often as possible.”

 -----

Dean leaned back against the wall of the bar, pool stick in hand, a satisfied smirk on his face. Sam sank the eight ball into the left corner pocket of the pool table just as he had called it. They’d won four games so far. Hustling some drunk guys out of around three hundred dollars. The guys they’d been playing paid up ending the night. The brothers placed their sticks on the rack walking over to the bar to order a couple beers. Dean slid a hundred across the bar to the tender asking him to start a tab for them. The place was starting to get crowded so they needed to separate. Drawing attention to themselves wasn’t good if they wanted to listen out for info on demons. Dean crossed the room, walking up to a slutty looking brown haired girl.

Sam watched him from the bar, he fidgeted with nervous jealousy. Dean winked at him when the girl wasn’t looking, reassuring his Sammy who he belonged to. Sam sipped his beer while he pretended to watch the football game on the tv above the bar, listening to the conversations around him. Two girls at the bar were talking about keying the car of ones cheating boyfriend. Two men at the other end were talking about picking up said girls and taking them home. A young short blonde haired girl came to sit beside Sam. “How about buying a girl a drink?” she asked. “Can I get your name first?” he asked in return. She smiled at him as their eyes met. “I’m Meg.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys check out the full moon bar. Azazel sends Meg to make their first move.

Meg smiled sweetly at Sam as he signaled the bar tender over, ordering two more beers. As the tender placed the drinks on the bar they both took a sip. Sam shifted uncomfortably, noticing how she eyed him like a hungry cat. “Um…just so we’re clear…I’m um…kind of uh seeing somebody…I guess.” She laughed. “Oh my, I’m so sorry. No trust me you’re beautiful, but no it’s not like that.” She said with a wave of dismissal. “So this somebody, sounds complicated.” Sam took another sip of his beer. “Yup.” He gave a sigh. She paused for a moment seemingly in thought. “ Let me guess, her Dad doesn’t approve?” Sam gave a long sigh, he couldn’t believe he was about to say this to a stranger. ‘Maybe a stranger is the best person to tell’ he thought. “My girlfriend died a few months ago and I recently started something with my ex again. I feel guilty...for being happy.” She gave a sympathetic nod saying, “Like you should have mourned her for longer? ” He couldn’t speak the words, giving a small nod instead. “Did you love her?”, she asked to which he gave a soft, “No.”

  
They both took another drink of their beer, Sam’s much bigger than her sip. “But the ex, you love?” He gave a small smile, nodding a yes. “Well you can’t waste your life on the past. If you see a future with this person you should pursue it. You deserve to get everything you want.” He smiled at her kindly. “Thanks that’s what I needed to hear.” He said. She thanked him for the drink, rising from her stool. Just before she walked away she ran one finger tip across his shoulder. She crossed the bar to the jukebox, touching the shoulders of everyone she passed on her way, just as she’d done to Sam. Reaching the jukebox she pushed a quarter in and the sounds of ‘Animal’ by Def Leopard came through the bar, casting a spell over the patrons she had touched.

  
_A wild ride, over stony ground_  
_Such a lust for life, the circus comes to town_  
_We are the hungry ones, on a lightning raid_  
_Just like a river runs, like a fire needs flame, oh_  
_I burn for you_

  
She danced her way to the center of the room, the few she’d touched following her, all but Sam. From the moment he'd felt her feather light touch he was devoured by an overwhelming need for Dean. Lust consumed him so completely his body shivered at the thought of the promise of pleasure that came from being Dean's lover.

  
_I gotta feel it in my blood_  
_whoa oh_  
_I need your touch, don't need your love_  
_whoa oh_

  
He pulled his cell out of his pocket opening the text app he quickly typed out a message. Across the room Dean was still talking to the slutty brunette, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He pulled it out opening the text he had received, it was from Sam. ‘Wait two minutes then meet me in the bathroom.’ Was all it said. His eyes drifted across the room to see Sam rise from his stool and walk off to the bathroom. Once his brother was out of sight he noticed that the girl he’d been trying to get information out of had joined everyone else in the bar in the center of the room. They were all dancing. He hated bars where people danced. Even when it was to damn good music. He waited his two minutes, disappearing into the bathroom. Meg let out a wicked laugh as she watched the older Winchester disappear from the room. ‘Enjoy my king while you can you piss ant, soon your spine will snap under his foot.’ She thought to herself with deep satisfaction.

  
_And I want, and I need_  
_And I lust_  
_animal_  
_And I want, and I need_  
_And I lust_  
_Animal_

  
As the door shut behind Dean he flicked the lock so they could talk in private, eager to find out what Sam had learned. Instead he was pulled into the room by the collar of his button up shirt. “Whoa! Easy tiger. Whats?” he was cut off midsentence by Sam’s lips pressing firmly into his own. The younger Winchester’s tongue found it’s way into his mouth, eliciting a husky moan from him. Sam was pressing himself flush against Dean, the taller man’s erection pushing firmly against his stomach with an undeniable need. He grabbed Sam by the shoulders pushing him off gently. “Sammy what are you doing?”

  
_Cry wolf, given mouth-to-mouth_  
_Like a movin' heartbeat in the witching hour_  
_I'm runnin' with the wind, a shadow in the dust_  
_And like the drivin' rain, yeah, like the restless rust_  
_I never sleep_

Sam’s hands were all over Dean moving from his shoulders, down his back, across his chest, working at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “De…I can’t help it. I, god I need you so bad.” Dean chuckled a husky laugh, lust on the tip of his tongue as he spoke. “Baby boy, trust me I want to give it to you. But were supposed to be working this case.” He placed a hand on Sam's, halting his work of the buttons on his shirt. Sam gave a whimper of protest. “Dean please!”, he placed his hand over Dean’s half hard cock, rubbing him through his jeans. The sound that escaped the older brothers lips were dark, needy. His voice grew deeper, as his cock grew harder, longer, thicker, against Sam’s palm. “Oh baby boy, the things you do to me.”, his voice was liquid sex. He pushed Sam into the wall of the stall behind him. Their lips crashed together, fueling each others fire. Sam only seemed to grow increasingly needy the more Dean touched him. He took control for a moment, spinning them around so Dean’s back was pressed into the stall, dropping to his knees he made quick work of his brothers belt. “Need you in my mouth De.” A moment later Dean's cock was swallowed up by his brother's mouth. He could feel the muscles of Sam’s throat around the head, squeezing it tight.

  
_Tame me, tie me_

_Make me your animal_

_Show me, stroke me_

_Let me be your animal_

  
The music was so loud it could be heard clearly in the bathroom, luckily Sam could still hear the deep lusty groans coming from his brother's throat. Dean’s head was tilted back eyes closed, mouth open. He ran his fingers through his little brothers hair while Sam worked him like a pro. Taking him out to the tip, then back down again, Dean feeling the bottom of his shaft sliding against Sam’s tongue then down his throat with each stroke while Sam’s hand massaged his balls. Still all the contact didn’t satisfy Sam’s sudden all consuming lust. In fact it only seemed to fuel it. He pulled Dean out of his mouth with a wet pop, leaving Dean breathing hot and heavy. “De need more, want you to fuck my face.” Dean looked down into Sam’s eyes. “I’m, you sure? That’s a little rough…even for us.”

His little brother bit his bottom lip, whimpering his need, begging for it. Dean gently grasped the back of Sam’s head, fingers tightening in his shaggy hair. Sam’s mouth opened wide as Dean placed the tip of his cock against Sam’s bottom lip, seeing the trust in his little brothers eyes. “I love you Sammy.” Was all he said just before he slide into Sam’s mouth, he moved a bit slow at first, testing the angle, making sure that when he started being rough he wouldn’t hurt his baby boy. Once he was sure, he went full force, thrusting his hips forward. Sam gripped the thighs of Dean’s jeans to support himself as Dean pounded away into his mouth rapidly. His thrusts were hard and deep. He could still feel himself being squeezed by Sam’s throat, but the speed of it was quickly bringing him to orgasm. Sam just took it. Dean coukdnt help the satisfying feeling he got from the sound of slightly gagging on his cock as it entered the back of his throat. The sounds pushed him on, making him fuck harder.

This was new ground for them. They’d had savagely rough sex before. Times where Sam’s hole had been left gaping open, cum dripping out, raw and red from Dean’s aggressiveness. He himself bore the scars to prove it on his back. It was their thing.  
Dean’s rapid thrusts seemed to lose their steady rhythm as he leaned to the edge of climax. He slammed into his brother's throat mercilessly, Sam reached into his own jeans pulling his erection out, stroking it rapidly. “Fuck baby boy! Gonna cum.” The words caused Sam to moan, the sound vibrating in his throat into Dean’s cock. That vibration was his undoing. With one last hard thrust into Sam’s mouth he came hard, his load shooting down the back of his throat. The younger man reached his own orgasm, cumming hard into his hand, moaning on Dean's cock as he rode out the pleasure. Dean pulled out of Sam’s mouth, leaning back against the stall. Pulling Sam up, he licked his baby boy's cum off his hand, sucking the fingers into his mouth until his hand was clean.

He kissed his brother gently. Tucking Sam’s softened cock back into his jeans. “You ok Sammy? I didn’t hurt you did I?” Sam leaned into Dean. He nodded a yes, his throat had a raw abused feeling. “Throats a little sore but I’m fine.” Dean's eyes were soft, gentle. He kissed Sam’s forehead, his cock still erect against Sam’s thigh.

  
Sam laughed as he tucked Dean's erection back into his jeans. “I’ll never understand how you can cum so much and still be hard as a rock.” Dean smirked slipping past Sam laying a firm spank on his ass. “It’s a gift Sammy. Catch your breath, I’ll pull the car around. We aren’t going to find anything tonight.” Sam smirked as Dean walked toward the door, “Gift my ass. You’re like a freak of nature.” Dean looked him in the eye, his ego spilling out. “What can I say Sammy, I’m a power top.” He flipped the lock, walking out into the bar. His pride was filling his head so much he didn’t see the blond Sam had been talking to slip into the bathroom behind him. Sam was at the sink washing his hands when he noticed her reflection in the mirror. He turned around quickly. “What are you doing?” Black smoke rushed out of her mouth, funneling it’s way down into Sam. As soon as the girl was free she rushed from the room. Running straight out into the parking lot and up to the impala sitting just out side the door where Dean leaned against the passenger door waiting for Sam. She grabbed him by his shirt collar.

“Whoa honey don’t know how much you’ve had to drink but I bat for the other team so…” She spoke fast. “For three years I’ve been possessed by a demon.” Dean’s face became serious, he listened to her. “At first iy was like I was asleep buy after time I was there in my mind while it did horrible things, you aren’t safe.” Dean tried to calm her down but she wouldn’t let him talk. “Its inside your brother.” Was the last thing she said before she took off running into the night. He pulled out his phone quickly pressing the call button. “Bobby, we got trouble.”

  
Meg stood in front of the mirror, cursing herself. How could the bitch run so fast. Azazel would be furious she had let her escape. There was nothing she could do now, she had to focus on finding out what the Winchesters knew. The girl would be foubd and die. The demons couldn’t have her running around telling everything she knew, not that anyone would believe her. She took a moment to admire Sam’s meat suit. Pride in her future king swelled within her. She could still taste his brother's cock in his mouth, sweet warm flesh mixed with slightly salty cum. Her powers of temptation had worked. At this rate the boys soul would be overflowing with incestuous sin by the time his crowning would come. Dean watched Sam walk out of the bar, opening the door for him. Closing it as the thing that wore his skin slipped into the seat. He pushed his emotions down he had to pretend like everything was ok until they got back to Bobby's. This car ride was going to be the hardest thing Dean had ever tried to do in his life.

  
Dean couldn’t help but let his mind wonder as he drove into the night. Sam had been acting a little strange in the bathroom, he’d never been so desperate for sex before. ‘No, that was my Sammy. I’m sure of it.’ He thought. The way Sam had looked at him with absolute trust. There was no way some demon could fake that. It had to have gotten to his brother when he had went outside to get the car. Maybe the girl was lying, she could have been a demon trying to trick him. No that was stupid, she had genuine fear in her eyes. Still if there was a chance…he had to test it. “Hey Sammy, remember that time when we were kids and we went fishing at Bobby's?” “What about it?”, Sam stared out the window, not even glancing at his brother as he spoke. “You pushed me into the lake and Bobby cracked up laughing.” Sam smiled, seeming to look back in fondness at the memory. “Yeah, we should do it again some time.” He gave a fake laugh. Wrong answer, Dean had pushed Sam into the water, jealous his little brother had out fished him by catching three bass when Dean had none. That wasn’t Sam. ‘Fuck! I should have stayed with him. This is my fault.’

  
Dean was still silently cursing himself when he pulled the impala in front of Bobby's house throwing her in park, killing the engine. He walked up the stairs behind the thing that wore his brothers skin. They entered the house to find no lights on. “Bobby?” Dean’s voice a deep boom as he called out to the man. “In here, powers out.” The voice came from the living room. Dean followed the creature into the room once it stepped in he shoved it into the middle of the room. “Dean what the hell?” it spoke in Sam’s voice just as Bobby flipped the light on. The creature wearing his brother tried to step forward but was halted by an invisible wall. It looked down at the ground under Sam’s feet. A strange symbol that looked like a pentagram with ancient glyphs inside it was painted on the floor. The creature laughed insanely in Sam’s voice. “A devil’s trap? You hunters aren’t that stupid after all.” It turned around, viewing it’s surroundings. The only thing in the circle with it was a single metal chair. It took it’s seat. Leaning back, observing the two hunters in front of it. “You got me fellas, What will you do with me?” Dean glared at it. “What do you want with my brother?” It laughed, it’s eyes met Dean's with a wickedness.

“The same thing you want Big brother.” Dean clinched his fist in anger. “And what is that?” it smirked at him, running it’s hands down Sam’s chest, grinding it’s palm against The crotch of Sam’s jeans. “Mmm Deano the things you do to him. I can feel it tingling in his body. You’ve really broke this one in. Incest is such a delicious sin.” Dean’s face lost all anger replacing it with shock. “Bobby these things lie.” The old man placed a hand on his shoulder. “Its ok son. I’ve always known. I love you boys, What you got is pure.” A warmth swelled inside Dean’s heart, unfortunately it was cut off by the creature that used Sam’s voice. “Aww at least one of your Dads approves Deano.” Bobby unscrewed the cap on a flask, splashing the contents onto Sam. It turned to steam as it hit his skin, causing the demon to shriek in pain. “Bobby!” Dean grabbed the man’s wrist to stop him. “Its alright son, it’s just holy water.” He turned to the creature in Sam’s body. “Tell us what you’re after beast!” Bobby commanded an answer from it. “Has little Sammy told you about the visions yet Deano?” Bobby looked to Dean, who was just as confused as he was.

  
“Poor Sammy, keeping it all to himself. All these monsters the two of you have been chasing the past few months. Well little Sammy sees the victims and points you in the direction. It’s getting worse. He has headaches when it happens. He doesn’t want Big brother to know. I told you, we want the same thing you want Dean. We want Sammy to be happy.” It smiled at him. Dean seemed lost in thought for a moment. “That’s how he knew about the old house. He said it was just a feeling.” The demon wore a shady smile. “What do you mean you want Sam you be happy? How foes that benefit demons.?” Dean asked, not sure it would tell the truth. It seemed to ponder the question for a moment. “Any hunter that ends up in hell is a prize for my kind. I’ll see you there Dean. I want to be the first one to rip the flesh from your bones.” Dean showed it no fear. “It's not going to tell us anything Dean. Let just get this over with.” Bobby moved to a shelf, pulling an old book out flipping through the pages. The demon inside Sam seemed to grow uncomfortable it started shouting, anger in its voice. “The crowning is coming! There’s nothing you can do to stop it!”

“What is the crowning?” Dean shouted at the beast. It held its tongue. “Do it Bobby, we just got what we needed.” Bobby began to read from a page in the book. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas” The demon thrashed around wildly as Bobby read the rite of exorcism. The lights began to flicker. “Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.” Just before Bobby said the last word the demon belted out the words, “Ipse Est Rex!”. Black smoke rushed from Sam’s mouth funneling it’s way to the floor, which glowed a fiery red. Once it was gone Dean rushed to Sam’s side. His younger brother looked around the room confused. “Um…how did we get here?” he said. Dean pulled his brother close to him. “Its alright Sammy. You’re gonna be fine.”

Authors note: ipse est rex roughly translates to he is the king in latin. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean helps Sam feel better after being possesed. Bobby gives them a lead on a new case.

Dean turned the wrench in his hand, tightening the last spark plug in the engine. It had been a week since they had exorcised the demon from Sam and he was running out of things to tune up on the impala. Since Sam hadn't so much as let Dean hug him since the possession he needed things to keep him busy. He’d changed all of baby's fluids, replaced the brakes, brake pads, put new tires on, done an alignment. Hell he’d even had time to replace the speaker that had stopped working in the back, washed her and waxed the paint until it shined like new. He tossed the wrench into a near by tool box and closed the hood. He wiped the sweat from his brow, accidently smearing grease on his forehead. He sat on the ground next to her, sipping a beer. “You know I love you Baby but I can’t keep giving you this much attention. I gotta get him to talk to me.” He laid back on the ground, watching the clouds roll by as his thoughts drifted to that night.

* * *

 

He sat on the couch next to Sam as he and Bobby went over what had happened since they last saw each other at the bar. Sam sat in silence as Bobby flipped through the pages of books. His coffee table covered in research material. “I can’t find anything in the lore on ‘The Crowning’ but I did find this. Ipse est rex, it’s latin roughly translates to ‘He is the king’.” Dean looked up at him, ceasing his fidgeting need to protect Sam even though there was nothing to protect him from at the time. “King of what?” Bobby shrugged. “You got me son. I know a guy. He’s a little crazy, talks about some old school group called the men of letters. But he’s got lore I’ve never even seen. I’ll see if I can get a hold of him.”  
Dean followed Sam up to their room where his brother crawled into the bed, pulling the covers over himself. But as he attempted to lay down with him Sam’s voice was heard. “No! I need to be alone.” Dean stood at the edge of the bed, the fidget returning. “I mean it De. I love you, I do. I just need some space.” Dean let out a deep sigh, he turned and walked out of the room. He’d been banished to the couch ever since. Greeted every morning by Bobby walking past shaking his head mumbling “Idjits.”

* * *

 

Bobby stepped into the tinted view of Dean’s aviator sunglasses. “We need to talk son.” He rose to his feet. Leaning against the impala. “What did your guy say?”, the old man leaned against the car next to him. He spoke softly, trying not to be over heard, just in case Sam decided to come out of his cave. “The crowning is a demon ritual. A human overcomes a trial of some sort then becomes a demon. But not just any demon. King of hell.” Dean sipped his beer, it was warm. So what your saying is these black eyed fucks think my Sammy is gonna be their leader?” Bobby adjusted his hat. “It don’t make no sense, the ritual calls for a righteous man to become a demon by rising from the depths of hell. It doesn’t fit what the demon said.” Dean knew without Bobby having to say it out loud what he meant. “If it’s a righteous man they need, which means a man without sin. Why do they want me and Sam to be together. Homosexuality is a bad enough sin as far as the Jesus freaks are concerned but we're brothers. Incest takes the cake don’t you think.”

Dean knew the next words Bobby spoke weren’t just his way of reinforcing the fact that he approved of Dean and Sam’s relationship. “Hell if there is a God who’s to say what the freaks think is a sin really is.” Dean downed the warm beer, standing up straight his gaze never left the clouds. “This stays between us. Until we know more Sammy doesn’t need anymore on his shoulders right now.” He turned, walking into the house.

  
Sam was still in the bed. He hadn’t left the room for the entire week except to eat and use the restroom. Dean didn’t bother knocking as he walked in. Sam looked up at him, then pulled the blankets over his face. “Oh no you don’t. You don’t want me to touch you fine. I've slept in worse places than a couch but this is getting old Sam, you stink you need to take a shower.” Sam looked him in the eyes. “I feel so violated. Like I’ll never be clean again.” Dean sat on the edge of the bed, placing his sunglasses on the nightstand. “Come on baby boy let big brother wash it away.” Sam followed Dean into the bathroom. The older brother placed two towels on the counter turning the shower on he tested the water with his finger tips to make sure it was the right temperature. He pulled Sam’s tee shirt off, then slide his sweat pants down along with his boxers. Sam stood there in front of him covering himself with his hands, eyes on the floor. Dean placed a hand under his chin, making their eyes meet. “Don’t hide from me Sammy.” Sam's voice quivered with emotion. “That thing was in me De, Its like I can feel it in my skin. Dean pulled his own shirt over his head, taking Sam’s hands he placed them on his chest. Running Sam’s fingers down to his stomach with his own. “Then I’ll just have to get rid of it the only way I know how.” Sam gave him a questioning look. Dean leaned in until his lips were grazing Sam’s ear lobe as he spoke. Sending tickles of pleasure down Sam’s spine. “By making sure the only thing you feel or smell on you is me.” Sam shock his head, eyes returning to the floor. “De sex doesn’t fix everything.” Dean smirked as he worked the buckle of his belt. “Well if it doesn’t work the first time…try more sex.” Sam gave a tiny glimpse of a smile. “You truly are a deviant.” Dean licked his bottom lip, letting his jeans, along with his boxer briefs fall to the floor around his feet, his large cock already standing at attention. “You love it.”

  
As they stepped into the shower Dean pulled his younger brother close, letting the hot water pour over both of them. Sam lowering his head onto the older man’s shoulder so the water rushed over his head. Dean placed tender kisses on Sam’s neck as he worked a bar of soap down his brothers chest to his stomach, working up a lather. They washed each other's bodies running hands down sensitive skin, lips teasing one another, teeth occasionally catching the other's bottom lip in a gentle nibble, eliciting soft moans out of each other. Dean spun them around pressing Sam into the shower wall, taking in the sight of the water cascading down his back before grasping the cheeks of Sam’s ass tightly. He spread them pressing his body flush against Sam's, letting his cock slip between them, past his balls until the tip was touching the bottom of Sam’s own shaft. Dean let out a deep groan, his fingertips biting into the plump flesh beneath them. Sam let out a hiss. “De stop.” Dean immediately stepped back, his hands at his sides, ending all contact. His obsessive need to protect Sam overpowering his sex drive. Sam gave a whimper. “No…I mean I don’t need it like that…right now.” Dean was back in a flash, this time gently caressing the skin of Sam’s ass. “Oh so baby boy wants it soft and slow.” Dean pressed his lips against Sam’s neck. Sam could feel the smile that Dean wore.  
“Mmm Sammy gonna take my time. Gonna touch every inch of you. Ride you all night long.” He slathered his hand with soap, letting it ghost it’s way along Sam’s ass until his middle finger pressed against Sam’s entrance causing the younger man to gasp with excitement. He slipped it in with ease thanks to the soap, pushing in to the second knuckle and back out again slowly.

So torturously slow, over and over again until Sam was whimpering in pleasure. He added a second finger, stretching his brother open. By the time Dean added the third finger Sam was bucking his hips back to meet Dean's hand with each movement. Dean teased at Sam’s sweet spot. Massaging his prostate with his finger tips. Sam was quickly becoming unhinged as the older Winchester started to pull his fingers out wetting them with the water, then pushing them back in to rinse the soap out of Sam. By the time the slippery suds feeling was gone Sam was cumming, squirting his load on the shower wall, knees wobbling like a new born foal. Dean pulled his finger out moving his hand around his brother's waist to support him. Dean’s teeth grazed his ear as he spoke. “I love watching you cum from just my fingers baby boy.” They kissed tenderly until the water ran cold.

  
Stepping out of the shower they dried their bodies in haste running to the bedroom, the towels around their waist discarded as Dean scooped Sam up laying him down onto the bed. Sam spread his legs as Dean moved in between them. As their lips met Sam’s hands ran up and down Dean’s back, tracing the scars he left there years ago. Dean kissed his way down his brother's chest, his tongue tracing a line down his navel to Sam’s hard cock. He took it into his mouth, slowly sucking the tip as Sam moaned under him. He worked his mouth slowly down the length, bobbing his head up and down slowly, sucking Sam like a lollipop down to the hilt then back up to the tip then down again. Sam gently rocked his hips up to meet Dean's mouth. “Fuck De your mouth is so hot.” 

Dean worked Sam until he was cumming in his mouth, hot white liquid rushing out onto his tongue. Dean swallowed it down. Every last drop. He continued to suck Sam until he was shaking from the shocks of his orgasm, pulling his mouth away only when Sam had gone soft. Dean moved down farther, pushing Sam’s legs up letting his tongue lick Sam’s entrance. Sam jerked, bucking his hips up moaning loudly at the sudden new sensation. “D-Dean! What are you doing?” Dean continued to lick at Sam’s entrance. “Gonna eat you out Sammy until you cum again from my tongue in your ass, then I’m gonna spread your legs across my hips and watch you fuck yourself slowly on my dick til you can't hold yourself up. And finally I’m gonna make love to you until the sun comes up.” Dean pushed his tongue inside Sam just past the first ring of muscle. He pushed a finger inside sliding it past his tongue, massaging Sam’s prostate again as he flicked his tongue in and out.

It wasn’t long until Sam was fully erect once again. They had never done this before. The exciting newness casting it’s spell on both of them. Dean thoroughly fucking Sam with his tongue like he was starving while Sam writhed under him until he came for the third time all over his stomach practically screaming like a girl. Dean sat up wiping saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand. Once he had licked Sam’s stomach clean he laid down next to him, pulling his younger brother across his lap. Sam could feel his rock hard cock pressed up against the crack of his ass, weeping with precum. Dean reached over to the nightstand, picking up the bottle of lube they’d placed there the day they arrived and squirting some out into his palm, slicked himself up with it. “Ride me Sammy. Fuck yourself on big brother's cock.” Sam obeyed, sitting up to align his entrance with the head of Dean's erection. The older man held him by the hips as he slowly lowered himself onto it. Dean gave a husky grunt as he felt himself entering his lover. Sam sank down onto him so slowly it was torture. It felt like forever before he was fully inside him, buried in Sam’s warmth.

  
Sam pushed up, rising and lowering himself onto Dean. He moved his hips in a circular motion, creating a rhythm. Sam placed his hands on Dean’s chest for support as he rode him. Dean said the sexiest things to him the whole time. “Fuck Sammy you’re so hot inside. So soft and tight.” Sam moaned, he was starting to lose it, he was already hard again, precum running down his dick, he was losing his rhythm. Dean held his grip on his hips, helping guide him. “Mmm Sammy love being inside you. The way your ass squeezes my dick feels so fucking good. God you’re the best fuck on the planet.” Dean’s words were Sam’s undoing. He tensed up, letting out a loud groan that matched the one his brother let out at the same time as he came spilling his seed onto his brother's stomach. At the same time he could feel Dean's cum rushing out inside him as he collapsed onto his lovers chest. They both laid there for a moment panting, trying to catch their breath. Their tongues explored each others mouths, hands exploring everywhere else. Sam felt Dean's cock twitch with life inside him, still rock hard, to which he gave a soft moan. Dean flipped them over so he was on top of Sam, still buried balls deep inside him. “You good Sammy? Can you keep going?” the younger Winchester nuzzled Dean's throat. He was so exhausted he could only get half way hard as Dean started to once again move slowly inside him, back and forth with short shallow motions. “You promised me you’d make love to me until the sun came up.” And Dean delivered. He took Sam over and over again for hours. Just as the first rays of sun crept into the window Dean had Sam on his knees, thrusting gently into him from behind as Sam gripped the sheets mewling as Dean came inside him with one final deep moan. Dean pulled out of him letting Sam collapse onto the bed in utter exhaustion. He felt his brother lay next to him, pulling him into his arms, covering them with the blankets. They drifted off to sleep wrapped up in each other.

  
It was late afternoon when Sam woke to an empty bed. He sat up a bit, exhaustion still washing over him looking around the room for Dean. Just as the emptiness started to settle in the bedroom door opened and there he was. Strong broad shoulders covered by a tight tee shirt, strong slender hips clad in straight legged jeans, handsome face with beautiful green eyes and the most stunning smile Sam had ever seen. “Morning Sammy, brought you some orange juice.” He walked over to the nightstand placing the glass in his hand on it. As their eyes met he noticed something in Sam’s he’d seen before though it had been a long time. It was doubt. “What?” he asked. Sam spoke softly, “De do you ever regret it?” Dean gave a questioning look. “Regret what?” Sam didn’t respond. “Making love to you?” the younger man lowered his head. “Yeah…” A pure warmth washed over Dean, his features soft, full of love. “Baby boy that’s the one thing I’ll never regret doing.”

  
There was a sweet silence in the room for a moment. Sam sat up rising from the bed , placing his naked body in Dean’s arms. They shared a single tender kiss before Sam felt a firm smack in his ass cheek. “Come on get dressed and drink your juice. Bobby made pancakes, he really wants to see you.” Sam pulled on a pair of boxers and jeans. As he dug through his bag for a shirt Dean tossed one of his own at his chest. Sam held it a questioning look on his face. “Wear it today…for me.” As Sam pulled it over his head he recognized the scent instantly. Leather and musky soap. Dean had worn this since the last time it was washed. It cemented his promise that Sam would smell and feel nothing but Dean on him. He picked up the glass of juice with a smile, sipping it as they walked down the stairs together. The smell of bacon, eggs, and maple syrup filled the room. Bobby was standing in front if the stove, flipping the last pancake over as the boys took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Morning Bobby. Did you get a good night’s sleep?” Sam asked. Dean sighed, “Oh no here we go again.” Bobby slide the last flapjack on one of the three plates he had next to the stove, picking them up as he walked over to the table, placing one in front of both brothers then in front of himself. “Kinda hard to sleep listening to you two goin at it all night. Idjits.” Sam flushed a deep red which caused Dean to laugh out loud. Sam was still getting comfortable with the idea of Bobby knowing about their extra curricular activities. The younger man cleared his throat. Dean crunched on a mouth full of bacon, a cocky smile on his lips as he chewed. “You boys gonna be getting back out there anytime soon?” Bobby asked, changing the subject.

  
Dean looked to Sam like a puppy waiting to be thrown a bone. He knew his older brother wouldn’t last much longer with out a hunt. “Um…yeah. Why you got a case?” Bobby pushed his fork into his pancakes to cut them. “There’s an architect named Sean Boyden in Mississippi who jumped off the roof of the condominium he lived in. He designed it himself. Started acting strange after reporting hearing dogs howling outside his home.” Bobby stated before placing the fork in his mouth. “Hm, build a highrise and jump off, that’s classy.” Dean joked. “So, he called animal control?” Bobby nodded. “Two days earlier. Says it was a wild, vicious black dog.” Dean chewed his bacon while he talked, “Sounds like a black shuck.” Sam chimed in, “The black shuck is said to be a death omen, they typically haunt graveyards, bodies of water, or crossroads.” Bobby nodded, passing printed out pictures of the creatures to the boys. “Man these things are big. Bet they could hump the crap out of your leg. Look at that one, huh?” Dean chuckled as he showed the picture to Sam who gave him a look that said, ‘Seriously De.’ “What they could.” Dean defended as Sam shook his head at him. After breakfast Bobby followed the boys out to the impala, watching as they placed their bags in the trunk. They both walked over to the old man, pulling him is a tight hug. “Hey easy now. You boys be safe. And stay in touch. You both know how to use a damn phone.” The boys waved a goodbye as Dean backed the car up, turning around, pulling out if the salvage yard. Bobby watched them until the impala was no longer in sight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets a crossroads demon from whom he learns a terrifying possibility.

[](https://ibb.co/dGjJ2R)   
[](https://imgbb.com/)  


The Winchester’s stood in the fancy apartment of a man who was one of Sean's coworkers. They wore cheap suits posing as reporters to question him. “So you and Mr. Boyden were business partners for 10 years right?” Sam asked looking around the room. “That’s right. And this is for what again?” he looked to Dean. “A tribute to Mr. Boyden, Architectural Digest.” The older Winchester said. The man gave a sarcastic laugh. “Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaving me and his family behind and gets another one.” Sam looked at the man, faking sympathy. “Any idea why he’d do it?” the man shook his head. “Not a damn clue man. He had a perfect life. I mean I’m capable but the man was a down right genius. It wasn’t always that way though. Wanna know the truth?” Dean gave a sideways nod, urging the man to go on. “There was a time when he couldn’t even design a tent. Ten years ago he was working as a bar tender at some place called Lloyd's. It was a total dive you know?”

Sam asked his next question with honest curiosity, “So what changed?” The man shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “You got me but it was like overnight he got this huge commission and he starts designing the most genius buildings you’ve ever seen. I mean to have that kind of talent and just throw it away? Why?” They thanked the man for his time, taking their leave to the next stop on their list.

  
Dean walked out of Animal control with a folder in his hand. He gave a sigh as he sat in Baby's driver seat, closing the door behind him. “So the secretary’s name is Carly. She’s 23. Kayaks, and uh they’re real.” He made a motion at his chest like he was cupping breasts. Sam rolled his eyes. “You didn’t happen to ask her any thing related to the case did you?” his tone was annoyed. Dean handed him the folder. “Any complaint called in this week about anything big, black, and doglike. There’s 19 calls in all and uh…” He pulled a sticky note off the front of the folder handing it to Sam. “I don’t know why they still give me their number after I tell them flat out in not interested.” Sam gave him the pissed off look he had when Dean would flirt with girls for info. “I’m not kidding Sammy. She said if I change my mind to give her a call.” He took the paper from his little brother, crumpling it in his hand before tossing it out the window. He smirked at his brother as he threw the impala in drive, pulling out of the parking spot. “I told her I suck cock with more skill than she could ever dream of having and walked out the door.” Sam laughed out loud. “You did not.” Dean’s smirk grew, his ego showing. “You shoulda seen her jaw hit the floor.”

  
They spent the next day visiting the homes of the people on the list. Everything was turning up a dead end. They knocked on the door of the last lead. A short black haired woman opened it. “Hi we're from animal control, we’d like to ask you some questions.” Dean flashed a fake ID at the woman. “Oh someone already came by yesterday.” She stated in a confused tone. Sam smiled sweetly at her. “Yes we’re just following up. We’re looking for Dr. Alicia Perlman?” the woman invited them in where they stood in the kitchen. “Um the Dr. Left two days ago I’m not sure when she'll be back.” Sam nodded at her, his voice sounding so professional. “Ok. And you are?” The woman gave a tight lipped smile. “I’m Miss Perlman's maid.” Dean spoke up, taking over the conversation as he looked at the pictures on the refrigerator. “And where did the Dr. Go?” She turned to look at him. “She didn’t say. Hey did you find that stray dog yet?” Sam gave an apologetic look. “No not yet, uh you didn’t actually happen to see the dog your self did you?” She shook her head no. “I never even heard it. I was starting to think she was imagining it. But she’s not like that so…” Dean chimed in again. “I read she was chief surgeon at the hospital, she’s gotta be like…in her early forties, that’s young for that job.” The maid smiled, “Yeah she’s amazing. She got the position ten years ago.” Sam gave Dean a look.

“Wow, an overnight success ten years ago.” Dean pulled a picture off of the fridge walking over to Sam. “Hey look at this, Lloyd’s bar.” Sam thanked the woman for her information before they left. Once back in the impala they sped down the road in search of the bar. “Dean what you thinking?” Dean seemed to be going over something in his head for a minute. “It doesn’t fit. Black shucks don’t hurt women. The lore says they protect women while walking home at night. Sometimes they appear to a woman who’s male lover has been unfaithful. They’re even known to be familiars for witches.”

  
It was some time before they reached the bar. It was located out in the country far away from town. Dean pulled up in front if it parking the impala and turning off the engine. As they exited the car they noticed they were standing in the middle of a crossroads. As they looked around they noticed strange yellow flowers planted in all four directions. “That’s weird, why would someone plant these in the middle of all these weeds. What are these called again?” Dean asked. Sam replied, “Yarrow flowers.” Dean bent down for a closer look. “They’re for summoning rituals right?” Sam nodded his confirmation. Dean stood back up straight, his eyes meetings his brother's. “So two people become sudden successes ten years ago while hanging out at Lloyd’s right next to a crossroads.” He walked over to the trunk of the impala, coming back with a shovel in hand. They didn’t have to dig deep before they found a box. Sam dusted it off, opening it to find a photo along with what looked like a strand of hair, a small corked bottle, and bones. “I'd bet money that’s gave yard dirt and a black cat bone.” Dean picked up one of the bones eyeing it with disgust. “Yeah that’s some deep South hoodoo stuff.”

They rose to their feet as Dean spoke. “They didn’t just summon a demon, crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are making deals with the damn thing.” His tone was sarcastic. “Yeah cause that always ends good.” Sam gave a sigh. “They’re seeing dogs alright. They’re not black dogs they’re hellhounds.” Dean looked up at his brother, seeing the fear in his eyes. “Hey Sammy its ok. I won’t let one of those things get to you again.” Sam walked back to the car with haste. Dean tossed the tin box in the trunk before getting in, pulling away from the place as fast as he could. As they drove back into town they passed a motel full of cop cars. Dean pulled in handing Sam his fake FBI badge before they exited the car. They walked right up to one of the officers flashing the badges quickly. “I’m agent Sykes.” Dean said before pointing to Sam. “This is my partner agent Quinn. Wanna tell us what’s happened here?” The officer looked them over, taking in their street clothes. “You boys don’t look like Feds let me see those badges again.” As they held the badges back up Sam spoke. “Forgive us officer we just got into town from a long trip. We haven’t found a place to stay yet so we aren’t properly dressed.”

The cop seemed to buy the story. “Well we got a body inside. From the looks of it it’s a bear attack, but what we can’t figure out is how a bear got into the room. Or what one would be doing in the middle of town.” They placed the badges back in their pockets. “We'd like to see the crime scene.” Sam stated. They followed the officer inside to a horrific bloody scene. The body of Dr. Perlman lay on the floor covered in huge deep gash like claw marks. Blood was everywhere, on the walls, the bed, the carpet. It looked as if she'd been dragged across the floor, fighting for her life. Dean cleared his throat. “Did anyone see the bear?” The officer shook his head. “No. The people in the next room only reported the screams when they called us. They said they didn’t see anything. They didn’t even hear the beast at all.” Sam and dean exchanged knowing looks.

“So what case are you fellas here about? We haven’t had anything going on besides this.” Dean gave the officer a serious look, putting his professional face on. “That’s classified officer. Our case isn’t in this town, were just passing through and thought we’d get a room for the night.” They excused themselves after wishing luck on finding the bear, walking to the front office to get a room key. Once they were in the room it was safe to talk freely. “That’s what a hell hound attack looks like. Jesus.” Said Sam. Dean was moving about the room. Pouring salt at the foot of the door, along the window seals. “Sammy I need you to stay here. As long as you don’t leave this room you’ll be safe.” Sam turned to Dean, grasping him by the arm. “Where are you going?” Dean wouldn’t look at him. “I’m gonna summon that thing and exorcise it. That’ll buy us some time until we find something more permanent.” Sam’s grip tightened on Dean. “What are you nuts, no fucking way.” Dean pulled his brother to him.

“Don’t worry Sammy I’ll trap it. It’s not easy for those things to claw their way back up from hell.” Sam bore a demanding tone to his voice. “No! De promise me you won't go!” Dean kissed his brother tenderly. “Ok ok I’ll stay. We'll figure something else out.” Sam pushed Dean into the wall pressing flush against him, determined to keep him there even if it meant distracting him with sex. He bucked his hips into Dean, feeling their cocks rub together through the fabric of their jeans.  
Dean let out a groan. He could feel Sam’s hands on him, running down his stomach. Reaching to undo his belt buckle, then the button of his jeans, followed by the zipper. He let out a gasp as Sam reached in. Pulling out his soft cock, starting to stroke it.

He bit his lip, the blood rushing from his head to his dick. It swelled, growing to hardness in Sam’s large hands. He made quick work of Sam's clothes, eyeing his brother's sensual body before him. “Get the lube.” He said. Watching Sam cross the room, bending down seductively, giving Dean a full view of his ass, balls, and hard cock hanging down between his legs as he fished around in Dean’s duffle for the bottle. When he returned with it Dean pushed Sam into the wall. Biting his little brother's bottom lip, begging for entry as he popped open the cap on the bottle. He slide his tongue into Sam’s mouth as he slicked his fingers and began working Sam’s entrance. Once he felt he was ready he slicked up his cock with the contents of the bottle, closed the cap, letting it fall to the floor. He pushed his jeans down just below his hips before lifting Sam up, wrapping the younger man’s legs around him, pressing his back into the wall to help support Sam’s weight. He bit hard into the flesh of Sam’s neck, giving a deep moan as he buried himself inside in one swift thrust.

He held still for a moment , giving his baby boy time to adjust to the feeling of fullness. Sam started to grind himself down onto Dean letting out needy moans. “Fuck me Dean.” The older man started to move, gentle at first. Then rough and hard. He thoroughly fucked Sam into the wall until his lover came. Both breathing heavy, as he walked over to the bed , carrying Sam , still inside him. He laid them down on the bed. “Ready for more baby boy?” Sam threw his head back into the mattress, panting. “Give it to me De.”  
It was just past three am when Dean snuck out of bed. Pulling his jeans up, redressing himself. Sam was out like a light. He pulled on his boots , grabbing the keys, walking out to the parking lot. He put baby in neutral , pushing her to the exit of the lot before climbing in and starting the engine. She roared to life loudly. He pressed the gas, pulling out in the direction of Lloyd’s bar.

  
Dean stood in the center of the crossroads, the metal box in hand. He opened it, placed a photo of himself in it before closing the lid. He placed it into the hole he’d dug, covering it with dirt. He looked around, waiting. A beautiful woman with dark hair and red eyes appeared behind him. “Well well, you’re much more handsome than they say Dean Winchester.” He turned, looking her up and down. “And you’re just as ugly as I thought you’d be.” He said. She circled him, eyeing him suspiciously. “Ouch, I mean I know I’m not your type, you like them tall, hazel eyes, blood related.” Dean gave a tight lipped smile. “What is it with you demons? You’re so obsessed with my relationship with my brother.” She approached him. Standing so close she could feel the warmth from his body. “Your sin is so tasty Dean.” She sniffed at him letting out a pleased sigh. “Your little Sammy’s scent is all over you. What brings you from your brother's bed to visit little ole me Winchester?” Dean smiled at her. “Why don’t we do this in my car, nice and private.” She followed him to the impala. He opened the door for her. “Such a gentleman Dean.”

She looked down just before she began to step in, jumping back when she saw the marking on the floorboard. “A devil’s trap? You’ve got to be kidding me!” she advanced on him, he backed away from her slowly. “I should rip you to pieces!” he held his fists up, beckoning her on with his hand. “Aww but Dean your misery is just to fun to watch. Mommy's dead, Daddy hates you because you fuck his favorite son, and trying to watch you figure out just what Azazel wants from Sammy. It’s priceless.” He looked at her in shock. “It’s all you ever think about isn’t it Dean? You wake up every day next to your naked brother wondering how things got so fucked up. That’s gotta hurt.” She smiled a wicked grin. “You’re all lit up with pain. I mean you love him so much yet you wish you’d never gone to Stanford to drag him back into this with you. But you just can’t stay away. Little Sammy just feels to good inside.” Dean gave a sarcastic humph sound, still backing away from her until his back hit a support beam of a street light.

“To bad Dean, I could have gave you any thing. Made Daddy love you again. Your loss. I wish you a nice long life. She turned to walk away from him, taking a few steps before hitting an invisible wall. She looked down to see the devil’s trap below her feet. “Now you’re really trapped, that’s gotta hurt.” He said sarcastically. “Tell me what yellow eyes wants? What is the crowning?” She looked at him, saying nothing. “You talk and I don’t send you back to the pit. What’s yellow eyes want with my brother and what does it have to do with the crowning?” he pulled John's journal out of his inner coat pocket, flipping to the hand written rite of exorcism. As he began the first line she raised her voice, “Wait!” he paused looking to her. “I can’t tell you he'll kill me.” Dean smirked. “Not my problem.” He continued to read, getting halfway through the rite. “Stop!” she screamed at him. He waited once more. “There’s something I can do for you.” She advanced to the edge of the trap. Pulling him in, placing her lips to his, eyes flaming red before the color seemed to consume his own eyes.

* * *

 

He didn’t know where he was but it was raining. The cold feeling of it hitting his body. And Sam was walking towards him. “Dean!” Sam called out to him. A man steeped out of the shadows with a knife. “Sammy!” he ran towards Sam as the man stabbed Sam in the back before running off into the night. Sam was in him arms just before he started to fall. They sank to the ground together “It’s ok Sammy you’re gonna be fine.” He placed his hand to the wound on Sam’s back, pulling up to see it covered in blood. “Hey its not even that bad im gonna take care of you. That’s my job right? Take care of my pain in the ass little brother.” Sam’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body going limp in Dean’s arms. He pulled Sam away enough to look at his face. “Sammy!” he was gone. Dean pulled his brother back into his arms. “No no no!” his hand was on the back of Sam’s head, fingers running through his hair in a loving way. “Oh god…” his face distorted in pain. He rocked his brother in his arms. Tears pouring from his eyes.

* * *

 

Dean shoved the demon back, stepping out of reach from her. “What the fuck! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?” He demanded of her. She seemed in just as much shock as he was. “No no that’s not it. He’s supposed to be the victor. Ipse est rex.” She looked around as if in panic, noticing that as Dean had stumbled back he’d shuffled the gravel at their feet, breaking the trap. Black smoke rose out of her mouth flying into the night. Dean was left standing there. Breathing heavy, as the girl she had been possessing stared up at him. “Go home.” He barked at her. Pulling out his phone as he marched to the impala.

He tore down the road as the phone rang. “Come on Bobby!” he slammed his fist into the steering wheel. The other end picked up. He spewed the story out as fast as he could. “You need to tell Sam son.” Dean swore under his breath. “I can’t bobby. He's gonna freak. This is all my fault. He was out. I brought him back into this shit.” Bobby sighed. “Well you need to stick with him. Don’t be going off on your own Idjit.” Dean wiped a single tear from his eye. “Yeah trust me I don’t plan on doing it again.” He hung up the phone pulling into the motel parking lot. He walked straight into the room, stripping his clothes as he walked to the bed. He pressed his lips to Sam’s roughly as he leaned over him. Sam woke, lazily kissing back.

Dean flipped him over, reaching to the night stand for the lube. Slicking himself up with it a tossing the bottle across the room. He entered Sam easily, his hole still prepped from earlier. The younger Winchester hissed in pleasure. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked. Dean pulled Sam up onto his knees, grasping his hips as he began pounding into him. “Need to feel you Sammy.” The words were a dark moan. Sam bit his pillow to muffle his moans, fists clinching the sheets. “Fuck De.” Dean poured his emotions into Sam, trying to fuck them away. “God Sammy you mean so much to me. Never leave me. Need you by my side, always.” His nails bit into the flesh of Sam’s hips, causing the younger man to hiss in painful pleasure. He ravaged Sam, trying to erase the things had seen from his mind. But as hard as he tried he couldn’t forget.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has another vision. Dean gets a call from someone from his past.

Sam woke the next morning once again to the pleasant aches in his body. The results of Dean taking him hard for hours. He needed a shower, he could still feel the slippery stickiness of lube mixed with cum leaking from his backside. They had fallen asleep with Dean still inside him. Separating in the early hours of morning once Dean had gone soft, causing his dick to slip out. He rolled over watching his brother sleeping peacefully on his back. Noticing how the blankets were laying low on his sculpted hips, leaving his chest exposed. Sam reached out, fingers tracing small circles playfully down to the navel and back up again. Dean giggled a bit in his sleep. “Hey that tickles.” He mumbled to which Sam laughed out loud. Dean woke instantly, launching straight up in the bed. “Whatever just happened…it didn’t happen.” Dean looked down at Sam who was laughing so hard he was coughing. “Dude not cool!” Dean shifted in the bed, leaning down to bite Sam’s shoulder. “Ouch!” Sam shoved his older brother back pushing him off the bed.

His laughter returning at the shocked look in Dean’s eyes at the realization that nothing was under him anymore and in a split second gravity would kick in. His bare feet and naked legs flailing as he fell. Sam leaned over the bed, watching Dean rubbing his head, sprawled out stark naked on the floor. “You keep laughing and I’ll shove something in your mouth to shut you up.” Dean teased as he sat up on the floor. Sam pressed their lips together in a short, playful kiss. “Come on let’s take a shower.”

  
Dean tilted his head forward letting the water pour over him as Sam stood behind him soaping up his back, gently massaging the muscles under his fingers while placing tender kisses on his neck. “Mmm Sammy that feels good.” Dean let out a relaxed breath. Sam moved his hands down lower just above Dean's hips. “So you going to tell me what happened last night to make you wake me up the way you did?” Sam asked. Dean sighed. “Knew you wouldn’t let it go Sammy.” Sam turned his brother to look at him. “I’m worried De. The way you were acting…” Sam’s face suddenly shifted from worry to pain. He placed a hand to his temple, letting out a pained moan. “Sammy?” Dean caught Sam as he started to sink down. Setting Sam gently down on the shower floor. Sam's eyes were closed, his head thrashing back and forth. He couldn’t hear Dean cursing at how helpless he was to help him as the vision came on.

* * *

  
A man was driving down the highway in the middle of the night. The exit sign to his right read ‘Cape Girardeau 2 miles’. As the man reached down to turn the dial of the radio off the bright headlights of a truck came up behind him. The truck revved it’s engine slamming into his rear bumper. Causing him to tailspin out of control into a ditch. The car flew out of the ditch turning upside down skidding to a halt just as the truck disappeared.

* * *

 

Sam’s eyes sprung open. He looked up into Dean's eyes just before Dean pulled him closer. “What did you see Sammy?” he explained the vision to his older brother. Noting the twitch in Dean’s jaw as he told him what the exit sign read. “Missouri?” Dean asked. Sam nodded, “Yeah why?” Dean helped Sam to his feet, turning off the water, stepping out. He handed Sam a towel just as he wrapped one around his waist walking off into the bedroom. He went straight to the night stand. Pulling the charger out of his phone with a “Fuck!” He pressed a button placing the phone to his ear. Sam stood there just staring at his brother as he rushed around the room, dressing fast and collecting their belongings. Dean pulled on his leather jacket, hanging up the phone and placing it in his coat pocket. “Sam get dressed we gotta go.” Sam toweled off as he spoke. “What? De the crossroads demon is still out there.” Dean gave Sam an apologetic look. “It’s gone Sam…I took care of it.”

Sam paused the process of putting clothes on, his jeans still unbuttoned. “You what?” Dean looked down at the floor. “I snuck out once you were asleep. I trapped it and now it’s gone.” Sam was furious. “Dean you lied to me!” Dean tried to change the subject. “Sam I just got a call from an old friend. Her dad died last night and she thinks it might be our kind of thing. She lives in the same town your vision happened in.” Sam’s anger was boiling over. “Wait what? Who?” Dean wouldn’t say, instead his response was, “Believe me she never I mean never would have called if she didn’t need us.” Sam pulled a shirt over his chest grabbing his bag, following Dean out to the impala.

  
A short time later they were on the highway, they would make it to Missouri in about eight hours. Less if Dean didn’t watch his speed. Sam spoke up for the first time since they got into the car. “So her name is Cassie? You’ve never mentioned her before. Who is she?” Dean had an annoyed look on his face. This conversation was going to get him in even more trouble and he knew it. “Didn’t I?” Sam folded his arms across his chest. “No, so by old friend you mean?” Dean let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yeah we went out…” Sam pushed farther. “And?” Dean rolled his eyes, “We went on a couple of dates. What else do you need to know?” Sam looked out the window. “Did you sleep with her?” Dean’s eyes were straight ahead, watching the road. “Yeah.” Sam had to ask, he just had to. “When?” Dean sighed once more. “When I was sixteen. She took my virginity. It was before you, before anything with you.” Sam nodded in silence. He was unsure of why he was jealous. He hated remembering the days before when Dean would bring girls to the motels and fuck them. “Look it’s terrible about her dad but it sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it concerns us. By the way how does she know what we do?” Dean shook his head. Sam looked at him accusingly. “You told her! For months all I did was lie to Jessica about our family and you go on a couple of dates and spill the secret?” Dean gave a sarcastic, “Yeah, guess that’s what it looks like. And you know its not just an accident, you had a vision.” Sam spat his next words at him. “You lied to me last night and now you’re telling random women about hunting. Does she know I’m your brother?” Dean pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

“She knows my brother's name is Sam…” The younger man threw his hands up in the air. “Great so now when she hits on you I can’t do anything, I just have to sit there and watch you with the woman that took something from me.” Dean looked over at his brother, his voice sounding so angry. “What the fuck Sam? She doesn’t even know you how could she take something from you?” Sam hesitated to answer. “You were my first Dean. And she was yours. That’s something that I can never have from you…” Dean turned the radio up, ending the conversation.

  
Sam had no right to be jealous. He was twelve years old when these events had taken place. At that time in his life he didn’t even know what sex was. Dean didn’t start bringing girls home until he was fifteen. He was just reaching at something to fight about because he was angry Dean had broken his promise last night. He had to let it go. This girl had just lost her dad. Sam knew all to well what it was like to lose a parent. They sat in verbal silence the rest of the trip, only the music from the radio and the purr of Baby’s engine could be heard.

  
Sam followed Dean into a local newspaper company in the town of Cape Girardeau. An absolutely stunning bi-racial girl with long curly hair turned to look at them. “Dean.” She spoke softly as she approached. He gave a half smile. “Hey Cassi.” He cleared his throat. “Um, this is my brother, Sam.” She turned her eyes to Sam, she was so beautiful. He simply nodded and smiled. “Sorry about your dad.” Dean said honestly. She averted her eyes from them, holding in the sadness. “Yeah me too.”

  
They sat in her home as she placed cups of coffee in front of them. “The police have no idea but I know this is your kind of thing Dean. It rained heavy that night, it was really muddy. There was only one set of tracks that night. My dads. What happened to the car that hit him?” Dean sipped his coffee, holding back the look of distaste he almost gave at the fact that she added milk and sugar to it. Sam noticed, looking down at the creamy color of the coffee but saying nothing. At least he knew his brother liked his coffee black. “And the first person to die was a friend of your dads?” Dean asked, placing the cup on a coaster located on the coffee table. “Yeah his best friend, they owned a car dealership together.” Sam sipped his coffee as they spoke. “Can you think of some reason why your dad and his friend may have been targets?”, she shook her head no. Sam cleared his throat. “De it’s ok tell her.”

Dean rubbed the back of his head. “Sammy is…psychic. He had a vision of the accident just before you called. The truck that hit your dad disappeared into thin air after the crash.” She sighed. “Look I’m just a little skeptical about this ghost stuff you guys are into.” Dean gave a sarcastic sound. “If I remember you said I was nuts.” She looked at him. “That was then.” Dean smirked, giving a hmm. Sam’s eyes darted back and forth between them. He was getting the sense that things didn’t end well between the two of them back in the day. The Winchester’s thanked her for the coffee, taking their leave.

  
They pulled up into the parking lot of a local motel. As Dean got out to go book a room Sam said, “Two beds.” Dean gave him a look that said, ‘Seriously?’. “I’m your brother remember? Want to explain to Cassi why we're sharing a bed if she drops by?” he asked sarcastically. “The fuck ever man.” Dean stormed off to the motel office. Sam grabbed their bags from the trunk as Dean returned, he followed him into the room. Placing Dean’s bag on his bed then his duffle on his own bed. Dean grabbed it up, placing it on his bed next to his own bag. Sam picked it back up putting it back on his own bed. They were never more like brothers than when they fought. “Come on Sammy. I know I’m in the dog house but you could at least sleep with me.”

  
Sam knew what he meant. But he decided to twist his words anyways. He still felt like fighting. He was angry with Dean for sneaking out last night. “The only thing you’ll be fucking tonight is your own hand.” Dean growled in anger. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Sam scoffed at him. “Kinda like how you didn’t mean it last night when you said you wouldn’t go after that demon?” Dean couldn’t say anything. He had broken his promise. There was no defense. “Sammy I’m sorry.” Sam dug through his bag, looking for something to sleep in. “Then why won’t you tell me what happened?” Dean held his tongue. “Just tell me Dean. I’m not a kid anymore. I can handle it.” Dean gave a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It taunted me is that what you want to hear? Told me dad hates me cause you were his favorite and I ruined you in his eyes with sex. It poked fun at me because mom is dead. And it knew I am scared Sammy. Because if I had never made you leave Stanford with me…Jess would be alive, and you wouldn’t have been possessed by that thing. And last of all, that I’m scared because these things are after you for some reason, and I don’t know how to stop it Sammy.” Sam pulled out his sleep shorts. He paused for a moment, just staring at them in his hand. He knew Dean was being honest with him, he just wasn’t ready to let it go. Not yet.

He walked to the bathroom, refusing to change in front of Dean at the moment. He emerged from the bathroom in his shorts, pulled the blankets back on his bed and slipped between them. He had nightmares all night. Tossing and turning, grasping out for Dean to hold him in his sleep. Finding nothing but empty sheets. The next day Dean woke to his phone ringing. Cassi told him there was another death. He and Sam stood in front of the bathroom mirror, both looping the ties of their suits. “I’ll say this for her, she’s brave. But it’s kind of strange. You two never look at each other at the same time. You look at her when she’s not looking. She checks you out when you look away. What’s that about?” Dean turned his head toward him. “You think we might have some more pressing issues here?” Sam responded sarcastically. “Well…if I’m hitting a nerve…” Dean walked away from him. “Come on let’s go.”

  
They went around town asking locals that knew Cassi’s dad if they had seen the truck that hit him. They learned that back in the sixties a couple people went missing, everyone of them African American, and all were said to have been taken away by a big black truck. Sam and Dean stood next to the impala. “So all the victims somehow know Cassi and her family? Why don’t you go talk to her?” Sam said. Dean shrugged. “If you think we should.” Sam shook his head. “No I mean you. I need some space.” Dean started fidgeting again. He couldn’t leave Sam by himself. “No! You can’t be alone.” Sam reached into Dean’s pocket pulling out the car keys. He hopped into the drivers seat and locked the door. He turned her on, pulling away, leaving Dean cursing at him. He started walking in the direction of Cassi’s house.

  
It was night by the time he knocked on her front door. She invited him in. “So what’s up?” he said, trying to make conversation. She was shuffling through some papers on a desk. “The newspaper wants me to write an article for my dad. I’m trying to find the words.” She turned to look at him. “Where’s your brother?” Dean stuttered as he spoke. “N-Not here.” She gave him a strange look. He asked if she had talked to her mom about why the ‘killer’ would be after her dad and his friends like he’d asked her to earlier on the phone. She shook her head no. “She hasn’t come home yet.” He noticed the way her eyes lingered on him. “So uh… why did you ask me where my brother was?” She smiled. “Nothing, it’s not important.” He looked around the room. “Could it be because without him here…it’s just the two of us?” He asked, trying to get the truth out of her. “And with out Sam it’s easier to talk to me.” She gave him a confused look. “It’s not easier. Look.” He shook his head, walking away from her. “No, it’s fine we'll keep it strictly business.” She huffed at him. “I forgot how when you get anywhere in the neighborhood of emotional vulnerability you turn it into a joke, finding a way to shut the door on me.” He laughed, “Oh that’s hilarious. See you’re the one that shut that door on me remember?” She moved so that she was standing in front of him. “If you wanted out it was fine but you didn’t have to tell me that crazy story about how you hunt ghosts and have to leave to go work with your dad.” He barked his words at her, “I did, it was the truth! And I noticed it didn’t sound so crazy when you thought I could help you.” She raised her voice at him. “I thought you wanted to break up. I didn’t mean to hurt you!” His tone was laced with sarcastic anger, “Well you did.”

  
She was on him pressing her lips to his, only to be pushed away with haste. She had a mixture of confusion and hurt on her face. “Uh…didn’t see that coming.” He said. She reached out trying to pull him back into the kiss, he evaded by side stepping her, putting distance between them. “What so I don’t do it for you anymore?” he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Um…it’s not you it’s me.” Her jaw dropped open. “Are you seriously saying that right now.” He waved his hands slightly in a panic. “No! It’s not like that. I’m gay.” If it were possible her jaw would have hit the floor. “I for one know you aren’t gay.” He couldn’t believe he was saying this. “No really. I haven’t slept with a woman since I was twenty. And I’m seeing someone.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah cause you have time to be in a relationship while you’re out traveling the country hunting ghosts with your brother.” He raised his shoulders, tilting his head with a ‘Yeah….’ look on his face. She stared at him for a moment. He waited for it to sink in. “You and? No…you’re not…oh my god.” She covered her open mouth with her hands. “Oh my god, the way you look at him…the way he looked at me.” He looked down at the floor. “We know it’s wrong…we just…I love him.” She hesitated. She could see the shame pouring off of him. “Dean I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to accept it. Once we leave you’ll never see me again. I didn’t come here to hook up with you. I came to help you.” She crossed the room, taking a seat on the couch. “Dean I think you should leave.” He walked to the door. Looking back at her, his hand on the doorknob. “I only told you because you were freaking out on me. I never lied to you Cassi. Not then. Not now.” He opened the door, stepping out into the night.

  
It was just past midnight as Dean stepped into town. He walked around for awhile. He found the impala parked outside of a twenty four hour diner. He walked through the door, eyes scanning the room. Sam was sitting at a booth in the back, twirling a spoon in a cup of coffee that had gone cold. He slid into the seat across from his brother. “How long have you been here?” he asked. Sam didn’t look at him. “Since I left you earlier.” The waitress came over, asking Dean if he’d like to order. He ordered two fresh cups of coffee. Once she placed them on the table, turning to leave them alone Sam started to speak. “Did you sleep with her?” Dean gave him an angry look. “You really think that little of me?”, he snapped. Sam shrugged his shoulders. “We aren’t a couple Dean. You’ve made no commitment to me. We’re just fucking.” Dean’s temper started to flare up. “Wish I would have known I had a free pass to get my dick wet. Cause that’s all I care about isn’t it?” Sam knew he’d crossed a line, attempting to back pedal. “That’s not what I meant.” Dean picked his coffee cup up. “It’s good Sammy. Haven’t been getting it in often enough I guess. Figure i need more than an appetizer hmm?” Dean knew his next words would sting. That when they made up he’d regret them. “It’s just to bad you can’t seem to cut it Sammy. If only you could satisfy me.” Sam looked at him, hurt in his hazel eyes. “Thought I was the best fuck on the planet…” he said quietly, hanging his head. Dean crossed his arms, he wasn’t prepared for Sam to use his own words against him. For a second he thought of saying ‘Hey I’ll say anything to get laid right?’ but he knew that was taking it to far.

  
They sat there, neither one saying anything. They sipped their coffee in uncomfortable silence. The waitress returned to ask if they needed anything else. “No thank you. Sorry for being here so long.” Sam pulled out his wallet, handing her thirty dollars. “You’re total is 4.75 sweetie you need change?” He shook his head no. She walked off with a smile. He looked at Dean. His brother was fidgeting again. “What I meant was I’ve been sitting here worried that you’d hook up with her because I’m stupid, and jealous. Because we aren’t dating Dean. We’re brothers. We aren’t normal. I can’t give you any thing real.” Dean set his cup down. “Like what?” Sam stared down into his cup so hard he could have burned a hole in it. “Like kids…being accepted by people. Freedom to be who you are out in the open.” Dean softened, his anger melting away. “Sammy I don’t want those things. The truth is she did try to make a move.” Sam’s eyes darted to his face. “I told her the truth. That we're…whatever this is.” Sam hadn’t expected that. “What'd she say?” Dean took his turn to look down, braking eye contact. “What do you think? She freaked.” Sam sighed. “Look Dean I’m tired of fighting. Can we just move past this.” Dean stood up from the table. “Yeah sure Sammy. It’s all good when you wanna say shit to hurt me. But don’t throw punches if you can’t take a hit back.” He grabbed the keys, walking off to the door, Sam on his heels. They slammed the car doors at the same time. Dean threw the impala in reverse, backing out of the space, then in drive, heading for the motel.

  
“Dean its not like that, you’ve never lied to me before. You’re hiding something. I can tell. I’m just worried.” Dean speed down the road, his anger showing in his driving. “I don’t owe you anything Sam. Just but out.” Sam was on the verge of exploding. “Damn it De! What am I supposed to think when you’re hiding things and we end up here with the girl you lost it too. The only real relationship you’ve ever had aside from me.” Dean did explode. “Jesus Christ Sam what do you want from me? For me to ask you to be my boyfriend? Wanna settle down and adopt some kids so you can play wifey?” Sam gasped, like Dean had assaulted him. “Dean could you be serious.” Dean ran a stop sign, his driving erratic. “I fuck you when you want, how you want. And I fuck you good Sammy.” Sam couldn’t disagree, Dean was fully capable of more than leaving him satisfied. He gave it whenever and however Sam wanted, always leaving Sam a whimpering shameless mess under him. “And that’s all I need. Fucking you, and killing monsters. Just tell me what you want? A title?” Sam scoffed at him. “Maybe just some fucking ground rules. I’d like to know what to expect.” Dean pulled into the parking spot of the motel. “Like?” he barked, slamming the gear shift in park. “Like are we monogamous?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah Sam, I don’t plan on fucking anybody else.” Sam nodded approval. “Me either, ok what about honesty? You going to tell me what you’re hiding?” Dean turned the car off. “Yeah I will, just not while we're fighting.” Sam relaxed in his seat. “Anything you want?” Dean got out of the car, sliding the key card into the motel room door, Sam following him in. Once inside he reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling something out into his closed fist, holding it out for Sam. The younger man held his hand open timidly. Dean placed an object into his palm. Sam stared at it. It was the necklace Sam had stole from a gas station when he was eight years old. Gifting it to Dean on a Christmas where John left them alone in a crappy motel. Hanging on the cord next to the amulet was a silver ring just like the one Dean still wore. Every ounce of anger melted away within Sam. He was speechless. Dean took it from him. Untying the cord, slipping the ring onto Sam's finger, then knotting the cord, slipping the necklace over his head. He placed the ring on Sam’s finger. “I was there that night. You stumbled out finding it where I’d left it. I watched you throw it into the yard and walk away. I couldn’t leave it there. I picked it up and have worn it around my neck ever since. I only took it off before I broke into your place at Stanford. I couldn't bear the embarrassment of you knowing I’d held onto them for so long.” He placed Sam’s hand on his chest, letting him feel the nervous flutter of his heart beat. “I can’t give you a normal life Sammy. But I can promise you I will be faithful. I’ll always be yours.”

  
Sam pressed his lips to Dean's. Kissing him with pent up desire. Dean kissed back just as needy. They were practically buzzing with anger all day. Finally letting go of it into each other. They fell onto Sam’s bed, clothes flying across the room to be forgotten. They touched roughly, grinding against each other. They both let out a groan as Dean slide his cock against Sam's. Sam looked away from Dean shyly. Dean already knew what the problem was. “I didn’t mean it baby boy. You’re more than enough to satisfy me.” Sam gave a whimper as Dean leaned down, kissing his neck, pressing the tips of their cocks together. Their slick precum connecting in a string as he pulled back. “You’re just saying that.” Said Sam. “I know I get tired halfway through.” Dean smiled a warm sweet smile. “Yeah but you keep pushing through it for me baby. And I love it.” Dean teased every inch of Sam as he spoke. Taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking it while pinching the other between his fingertips. “The way you writhe beneath me.” Dean reached over to the floor fishing in his bag for the lube. Greasing his fingers with it, pushing two inside Sam. “The way you suck me off when you just can’t take my dick anymore but you’re not giving up until I cum one final time.” Sam gave soft moans, bucking his hips into Dean's hand. Tilting his head back for better access as he felt teeth grazing his throat. His nails digging into Dean's shoulder blades as a third finger was inserted, working him open. “You think any of those skanks from my past could take my dick the way you do?” He laughed against his brother's neck as he spoke, sending shivers down his spine. Sam faintly heard the cap of the lube bottle pop open then close again, heard it hit the floor. He felt Dean’s fingers pull out of him followed by the head of his cock pressing against his entrance.

  
“Not like you baby boy. You don’t shove me off after I cum once, leaving me holding my hard dick. You can last hours. Just taking it. Taking it so good.” He slide inside Sam as he finished the sentence. Causing Sam to gasp out loud, running his nails down Dean's back, leaving raised red whelps in his wake. Dean groaned in painful pleasure. “Gonna fuck you Sammy. Gonna pound your ass til you're left shaking from the aftershocks. Wanna see loads of my cum running out your fuck hole after I stretch it with my Big …Fucking...Cock!” He punctuated the last three words with hard thrusts, pressing into Sam’s prostate with each one. Dean fucked Sam ruthlessly, releasing all of his anger into his thrusts. After he’d brought Sam to climax five times he could feel Sam’s body go limp under him. He hadn’t came once yet himself. He was smiling, knowing his load would be big. He pulled out for a moment flipping Sam onto his stomach, sliding back into him. Fucking him hard and fast, edging himself to finish. He felt Sam reach around, grabbing the hand that was tightly grasping his hips. Sam’s signal that he couldn’t take much more. Dean gave in, cumming hard inside his brother. Still thrusting into him until he went soft. Pulling out, a wicked smile on his face as Sam’s hole gaped open, cum leaking out. Dean couldn’t stop himself. He reached his hand out sliding two fingers inside, causing Sam to whimper and squirm. He pushed his fingers in and out, feeling them squish the thick cum inside.

  
He pulled them out, looking at them. They were coated in thick cum, he scissored them watching it string together, connecting even when he separated them. He held his index finger in front of Sam’s mouth, Sam looked at it before lazily wrapping his lips around it down to the knuckle, twirling his tongue around it. Licking it clean. “That’s it Sammy, tell big brother how your ass tastes mixed with my cum.” Dean pushed the second finger into Sam’s mouth. Sam moaned, sucking them clean, releasing them from his mouth with a pop. “That good huh? Let me taste.” Dean pushed his tongue into Sam’s mouth, kissing him roughly. He broke the kiss laying on his back as he shifted Sam on top of him to were he was sitting on his face. He shoved his tongue into Sam’s fucked open hole, lapping up his own cum as it poured out into his mouth. Sam moaned loudly. Dean was trying to kill him. He knew it. Dean laughed. “How’s that for commitment.” He said before pushing his tongue back inside Sam.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys make up and work together on the case. Azazel plots against them.

Azazel sat on his throne like chair, legs lazily hanging off the arm. He was once again in a beautiful mansion of a house, this time located in Cape Girardeau Missouri. He was seen rubbing his temples in aggravation as his servants brought a female into the room. She kneeled before him, bowing to him, red eyes gleaming as she timidly looked up at him. “You’re supposed to be working a crossroads in Mississippi.” He said, throwing his legs over the chair arm, sitting up straight. “Forgive me my lord, I had a run in with the older Winchester boy. He came to me from his brother's bed.” She hoped the mention of The Winchester’s coupling would ease his anger with her. Azazel smiled briefly before cutting his eyes at her. “That boy keeps fucking with my mood. If he weren’t such a key player in my plans I'd squeeze the life from him.” He grinned as the crossroads demon crawled to him. Her belly to the floor like a worm. As she reached his feet she placed a kiss on his expensive leather shoe. He kicked her back, sending her scampering away like a dog running from its abuser. “Tell me, why is it that you have come to call on me.” He said in a demanding tone. “Forgive me my lord, the one named Dean cornered me. Caught me in a death trap. He tricked me into thinking he wanted to make a deal.”

Azazel seemed in thought for a moment. “Tell me Regina, is my daughter still inside the youngest Winchester?” She shook her head. “I haven’t seen the boy, but I figure no my lord, the eldest trapped me and began the holy rite. I fear they may have used it on her.” Every demon in the place cringed at the mentions of ‘Holy rite’. His gaze bore down into her. “How did you escape?” he asked. “I showed him with the gift of sight as ordered. Yet what we saw was…not of favor my lord.” Azazel beckoned her to forward. She crawled to him, keeping low to the ground. He grabbed her forcefully by the chin. Bending down to her taking her lips in his, both sets of eyes shining bright yellow. He saw what Dean had seen. Sam dying in his arms. He pushed her away, rising as if to strike her. He paused for a moment, hand raised back as she braced herself. He settled back into the chair. “Come to me.”

She keeled before him once again, her hands running over his spread thighs. “You have gained many souls for hell while in my service. Please me and I shall spare you.” She raised up, straddling his hips, undoing his pants pulling out his throbbing cock. He hiked her dress up, slamming himself into her ass, raw with no preparation, grinning at the loud scream of pain she released. “It is not of import. I favor the Winchester boy simply because he is a hunter. I want to taint his purity. Either way I win. If I want it to be little Sammy then I’ll just have to rig the dice.”

* * *

Sam lay in Dean’s arms. Feeling gentle kisses being placed on his forehead, fingers running through his shaggy hair. “We should fight more often.” He said, feeling Dean's lips form a smirk against his skin. “Absolutely not. Hate hurting you Sammy.” Sam shifted himself up to look at Dean. “Yeah, but the make up sex is good.” Dean smiled at him. “It’s only good cause it’s with you.” Sam leaned in, pressing their lips together gently. Dean’s phone rang, ending the post coital bliss. The older brother reached over to the nightstand picking up his cellphone, earning a huff from Sam. He held it up to his ear. “Yeah?” the voice on the other end was soft, female. Sam already knew who it was. “You’re kidding? No, ok room 204.” Sam resisted the urge to pout as Dean got out of the bed. He watched as his brother started to dress. Sam loved the way Dean's broad shoulders stood out, accentuating the curve into sender back. He practically smiled ear to ear as his eyes trailed the scars down to the waist line of straight legged jeans. The muscles in his arms rippling slightly as he fastened his belt. Dean had the kind of body women drooled over.

“You may wanna pull those blankets up.” The older man said just as a knock on the door was heard. Sam pulled the sheets up, covering his lower half. Dean crossed the room, opening the door as Cassi stepped in. Sam scowled at his brother. He’d purposely not told Sam to get dressed so she would see them like this. His way of showing Sam off to her. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t slightly fill him with pride. She may have been his first. But Sam was his forever. The rings on their fingers a symbol of that promise. He noticed the nervousness she had at the scene. Their clothes from the night before thrown haphazardly around the room, bottle of lube on the floor beside the bed, Sam naked under the blankets, Dean only wearing jeans, the musky smell of sex heavy in the air.

She gave him a tight lipped smile as Dean turned away from her, walking over to pick his duffle bag up, placing it at the foot of the bed. Her eyes drifted to him as they did when he wasn’t looking. Sam’s pride swelling inside him as her smile faded when she noticed the scars down his back. ‘That’s right bitch! I did that. He’s mine.’ He thought to himself. Dean winked at him as he pulled a shirt over his chest. Turning to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling on socks then sliding on his boots. The pendant of his necklace hanging low into his view as he leaned down, bringing a smile to his face. Everything was perfect again. They belonged to each other once more. Dean smiled at her while walking to the door, holding it open, his eyes on his brother as he spoke. “We’ll wait outside for you Sammy. Shag ass there’s been another victim.” They stepped out, leaving Sam to get dressed. A few minutes later Sam emerged from the room. He’d thrown on his jeans, a flannel button up, and an old pair of converse hightops.

He stood next to Cassi, both watching Dean walk to the impala to dig around in the trunk for whatever fake badges they might need. “I can’t say I blame you, he does have a nice ass.” She said, trying to be nice. Sam smiled at her attempt to accept them. “Yeah, he does.” She giggled, “You’re a lucky man, getting to get up in that.” Sam eyed her with humor. “I wouldn’t know.” Her face wore confusion. “But I thought…” He gave a small laugh, lowering his head shyly. “I’ve never been all up in that.” She blushed. “But you’re so tall?” he laughed out loud. “I’m sure he’d love to hear that you think he bottoms for me.” She gasped. “Oh no please don’t tell him.” He smiled at her. “Relax. Seriously though, you saw his back and thought he was a bottom?” she shifted on her feet nervously. “I thought it was work related.” Sam smirked. “Oh he was working that’s for sure. He likes it rough.” He walked over to stand beside Dean with out another word. She just stood there in a daze. Dean shut the trunk, walking to the drivers side door. “Hey? You comin?”, he asked.

She scurried over to the impala opening the back door and sliding in. The boys got in the front, Dean leaning over Sam to reach a box full of mix tapes in the passenger floor board, beginning to shuffle through it. “What you feeling Sammy?” His brother laughed out loud. “Driver picks the music remember.” Dean smiled pulling a mix tape out. “Yeah yeah…shotgun shuts his cakehole.” He presses the tape into the player, turning the key in the ignition, bringing baby to life. As they pulled out of the motel parking lot the sounds of Boston's ‘More than a feeling’, blared through the speakers. Cassie watched from the back seat with a smile on her face. Sam was tapping the drum beat on the dash as Dean played air guitar on the steering wheel while singing out loud changing the name Marianne to Sammy. She wasn’t sure what it was about the younger Winchester that brought this happiness out in Dean. He was a different animal with Sam than he had been with her. The way they shared loving gazes, playing off each other as they preformed the song as if they were the band.

And they couldn’t seem to go more than a few seconds with out some form of contact. Dean would reach over tapping Sam’s leg during a heavy drum beat. Sam would lean over bringing his face closer as Dean did the same as they sang the lyrics to each other. Their love was pure in the most innocent of ways. She didn’t have to understand it. But seeing them together she knew she had to accept it. They were happy, and oh so in love. And that was all that mattered. They pulled up to the crime scene Dean reached down turning the music down to almost a whisper. He parked the impala off to the side of the road. As the three of them stepped out of the car Cassi tapped him on the shoulder asking for a moment to speak in private. He told Sam to go ahead, that he’d catch up. Sam nodded before walking off to speak to the police. “Dean, I’m sorry about last night. It was wrong of me to judge what you and Sam have. Seeing the two of you together…well I understand. There’s something special there. A thing people spend a lifetime searching for. I’m happy you found it.” He smiled at her. “Thanks. It’s hard sometimes. If only more people felt that way.” He gave her a friendly hug before leaving her by Baby to join his brother.

They stood close, speaking in hushed voices. “I’m guessing you guys worked things out?” Said Sam. Dean nodded. “So what happened?” they walked side by side as Sam spoke, making their way back to the impala. “The victim was the mayor. Pretty much every bone in his body broken, organs are like pudding. Cops are stumped but it’s almost like something ran him over.” Dean asked in a sarcastic tone. “Oh like a truck.” Sam smiled. “Yeah, but no tracks.” Dean shrugged. “So what was he doing here anyways.?” Sam went on with the story. “He owned the property, bought it a few weeks back. But it doesn’t fit. He was white. All the vics so far have been black.” They reached the car where Cassi sat waiting in the back. Once the doors were shut they explained to her what had happened. They dropped Cassi off at home before driving back to the motel to try and research on Sam’s laptop. Dean sat in front of the laptop reading news articles from the town back in the sixties while Sam went through court house records.

Sam turned a paper in front of Dean so he could see it. “Ok so the property used to belong to the Dorian family, who also used to own the paper.” Dean searched the name on the laptop finding an article about a member of that family vanishing in 1963. “This guy Cyrus went missing around the same time as the murders back in the sixties.” Sam looked at his notes. “The mayor had the old Dorian house bulldozed on the third. The first death was the next day.” Dean’s cell phone rang. As he pressed the answer button Cassi could be heard screaming on the other end, the sound of an engine revving in the background. They ran out of the motel room, speeding down the road towards her house. When they pulled into the driveway the only car there was her mothers.

They were invited in where they listened to Cassie’s mom sob out the truth. “I used to date Cyrus. I left him for Martin. When he found out we were to be married he burned the church we had booked not knowing we eloped in secret. There was a children’s choir inside…they all died. Interracial couples were looked down on back then. Cyrus chased Martin down one night in that truck. He beat him something awful. But Martin got hold of the bat and just kept hitting him.” Her rings clinked against the coffee cup in her hands, she was shaking so badly. “Martin didn’t mean to kill him. He called his friend jimmy over to help. They put the body in the truck, pushing it into the swamp. The mayor was a deputy back then. He covered for them. He knew what Cyrus had done at the church. Felt that justice had been served.” The Winchesters thanked her for her honesty. They now had a name for the ghost controlling the truck as well as a location of the body. Dean asked that they stay in the house. Assuring them that soon it would all be over. They arrived at the Dorian land and set out to search for the location where the truck had been dumped. Finding the area Cassi’s mother described they used a rubber tire loader they found amongst the construction equipment to pull the wreck from the swamp. They pulled the corpse from inside to the ground, pouring salt and gasoline on it, setting it ablaze. “Think that’ll do it?” Sam asked.

Headlights appeared as an engine revved. They looked up seeing the truck. “I guess not.” Dean said, walking towards the impala, throwing a bag to Sam. “I’ll lead it away. Burn the truck.” He said as Sam crouched down, hiding. Dean sped away, the truck giving chase. It took the bait. Sam pulled out a map from the bag, a thought coming to mind. He pulled out his phone, thankful for the fact that they always shared the phone numbers of people involved in the cases they worked. He dialed Cassi’s number. Dean was speeding down the road. The truck right on his heels. It slammed into the back of the impala, causing it to jerk to the right. Dean managed to keep control. “You son of a bitch! That’s my baby!” he cursed at it. His phone rang. He managed to pull it out of his pocket. “Tell me you got something Sammy!” He floored the gas, trying in vain to put distance between them. “Dean I need to know exactly where you are.” He looked up to his left reading the street sign as he passed. Sam found his location on the map. “Ok turn right.” Dean jerked the wheel making the turn at full speed, the tires screeching in complaint. The truck was attempting to pull beside Dean to sideswipe him. “Ok you see a left turn up ahead?” Sam asked getting a quick, “Yeah I see it.” Dean slammed on the brakes. Letting the truck fly by, then quickly made the left turn. “Ok now what?” Sam traced a line on the map with his finger. “Drive exactly 7/10ths of a mile then stop.” Dean watched the trip meter count up to the mark. He slammed on the brakes, stopping just past the burnt remains of a building. He quickly spun around, stopping just in the middle of the wreckage. The truck halted it’s approach as it neared the impala.

“What am I doing?” Dean asked in confusion. Sam replied, “Bring it to you.” Dean waited, watching as the truck sped towards him. Just before the truck crashed into baby's hood it seemed to fly apart into pieces. Disappearing into a cloud of mist. Dean looked around in all directions not able to find it. “What happened?” he asked. “You’re where the church was. If a spirit crosses hollow ground sometimes it’s destroyed.” Sam said. Dean was breathing heavy. “What if you were wrong?” Sam hesitated. “Honestly that hadn’t occurred to me.” Dean hung up the phone. “I’m gonna kill him.”

The next day Sam sat in the passenger seat, watching his brother saying goodbye to Cassi. “Thank you for everything Dean.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Hey it’s what we do.” She smiled, “You guys take care of each other.” He pulled her into a hug. “Yeah you and your mom do the same.” When they let go she waved to Sam as Dean walked around, sitting in the driver’s seat. Sam placed a gentle kiss on Dean’s neck as the impala pulled away. “I like her.” He said, making Dean grin. “Where we going baby boy?” Sam laid his torso down, leaving his legs hanging down into the floorboard to account for his height, his head in Dean's lap. “Just drive.” He said. Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s hair. Singing along to ‘I’m burning for you’ by blue oyster cult. In that moment, everything was perfect.

* * *

Azazel sat back in his throne stroking his blood covered member. The cross roads demon named Regina lay in a whimpering heap at his feet. He kicked her violently. “Get back to your post bitch. Be thankful you leave here with your life. Filthy cockwhore.” She smoked out of her vessel, the girl she possessed screaming as the other demons drug her from the room. He tucked himself back into his dress slacks before sitting back with a pained look on his face. “These fucking visions are royally fucking up my plan!” he screamed out causing the demon that stood to the left of his chair to tense in fear. “That goddamned Dean Winchester! If I didn’t need him fucking his little brother I'd rip the flesh from his bones while little Sammy watched.” The demon to his left cleared his throat. “Forgive me my lord…perhaps there is something you have forgotten .” Azazel glanced up at his right hand man with a scowl. “And that would be?” the demon shifted on his feet, standing up bone straight. “My lord…if the cards in your hand aren’t in your favor…perhaps bringing one up your sleeve into play could win the game. You do have a crossroads demon in your coat pocket…sir.” An evil grin formed on Azazel's lips. “Bucky, I love the way your fowl little mind works. This should be interesting.” Azazel rose from his chair in wicked laughter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get ambushed by an old enemy. Bobby calls with shocking news.

Stars shone brightly in the night sky as the impala sped down the highway. Dean’s head tilted back just enough that he could still see the road. He shifted in the impala’s seat spreading his legs slightly father apart as Sam’s head bobbed up and down in his lap. He groaned deep in his throat, tightening his fingers in Sam’s hair. Sam moaned back in response, feeling Dean's erection hitting the back of his throat. “God Sammy you’re gonna make me crash my baby.” Sam sucked him off more vigorously, begging for his brother's cum. The older man white knuckled the steering wheel as he came in his brother's mouth. Sam swallowed it all, every last drop. He rose up to kiss Dean's neck, tongue tracing a line up to his ear. “If you don’t stop it I’m gonna park this thing and fuck you right here on the side of the road.” Sam gave a playful laugh, leaning back over to his side of the seat. Dean cleared his throat, tucking himself back into his jeans.

“There was a sign for a rest stop coming up in about three miles. We’re in the middle of nowhere baby boy. Haven’t seen a motel for miles.” Sam already knew where this was going. This night would end with them parked in the back of the lot at a rest stop sleeping in the car. “We can keep going if you want.” Said Dean. He shook his head no, turning to look out the window. It wasn’t long before Dean turned off the highway into the lot of the rest stop. It was empty. Not a single other car in sight. Sam had an uneasy feeling about all of this. He noticed that only one street lamp was lit, the place looked abandoned. “Dean we should leave.” His older brother smirked at him. “Aww what’s wrong Samantha you scared?” Sam rolled his eyes at him. “Dean I’m serious, I don’t feel right.” Dean sighed. “Alright fine. Let’s take a piss and get outta here. Maybe the next one won’t be so spooky.” He teased as he opened the car door.

As they walked to the men’s room Sam continuously glanced over his shoulder. They stepped out of the men’s room after relieving themselves but Dean didn’t head straight for the car, instead heading for a snack machine. As Dean looked over his options, Sam sniffed. “De you smell that?” realization washed over Dean as he ran a finger across a yellow powder on the keypad on the machine. Bringing his finger to his nostrils he cringed. “Sulfur.” Sam shivered in the cold night wind. “Didn’t Bobby say that stuff was left when demons were around?” Before the older brother could reply something cold clocked him in the back of the head. Everything went black. When Dean woke he was suddenly aware of something heavy on his back. His vision was blurry, the bright light of the single street lamp blinding him. He moved to push himself up but couldn’t. His hands were tied behind his back. “Sammy!” he yelled out. “Dean I’m here.” Sam’s words were like music to his ears as figures started to form in his gaze. When they cleared fear tugged at his heart with a mighty grip. Sam was on his knees a few feet away from him.

Two muscled demons holding him there, one with a knife to his throat. He felt his body jerked up, being shoved to make him sit on his knees. He glanced up, the demon holding him built like a brick shit house. “You fuckers hurt my brother I’ll kill you all. I’ll find a way to fucking destroy every one of you.” A red haired woman stepped out of the shadows, holding a blade in her hand. “Relax Dean, if you play by the rules everyone will leave here in one piece.” She walked up to him, kneeling down so they were eye to eye. “What the fuck do you want you ugly bitch?” he spat at her. “Ouch Dean. Don’t you remember me. You play a mean game of darts baby.” Dean’s face wore surprise, “Danni?” She smiled at him. “In the flesh.” He stiffened his shoulders, showing her no fear. “Azazel and his lackey’s thought they could get rid of me by sending me back to the pit, but here I am. And I’m going to help you stud.” The Winchester’s eyes were fixed on one another as Dean spoke. “What do you want?” She paced in front of him. “We're going to give you information on the enemy.” Sam felt his adams apple scrape against the blade at his throat as he spoke. “Don’t trust her De.” Danni snarled at him. “You mouthy worm! You know nothing.” She turned back to Dean.

“Azazel has big plans for you Sammy boy. He’s gonna take you and all the other babies he fed his blood to 22 years ago and make you fight to the death. He believes the last of you standing will lead the army of hell into this world. He plans to bring about the apocalypse.” She let it sink in for them. Watching the pained sympathetic look on Dean's face as he stared at his brother. “I…have demon blood in me?” Sam’s eyes left Dean's, drifting to the floor. “Why do you think you’ve had all those visions? You’re his favorite by far. I mean the thought of a hunter leading hell? Priceless.” Dean struggled against the demon holding him down. “Why should we believe you? You fucking monsters lie!” She waved her finger at him. “Tisk tisk Dean. Some of our kind have the gift of sight. But you’d know all about that wouldn’t you?” Sam looked back up at his brother. “De what is she talking about?” She laughed wickedly. “Awww You haven’t told him?” She rose to her feet, using a hand to tilt Dean's gaze up to her. His eyes still stayed on Sam. “Now all you gotta do is be a good boy Dean. Do what we say and I’ll give you the power to defeat him.” Dean spoke still not looking at her. His eyes never leaving Sam's. “What do you want?” She smiled. “I’m going to tell you all about Azazel’s little plan. All you have to do is listen and let us be on our way. No traps or exorcism and I’ll give you the gun made by Samuel Colt.” Dean fought to get his hand out of the ropes that held him. “See there’s this special colt. They say it can kill anything. I know where Azazel is keeping it. I’ll get it for you.” Dean huffed at her, still making direct eye contact with his brother.

“Now I know you’re lying. There isn’t a weapon that can kill demons. She summoned one of the demons beside Sam over with her finger. As it stood before her she pulled a jagged looking blade out of her coat stabbing the demon in the heart with it. Electric sparks seemed to surge inside it before she pulled the knife out, letting to corpse fall to the ground. “You see any smoke?” Sam and Dean looked at each other in shock. She smiled at Dean’s defiance. Kneeling in front of him once again. “I know what you’re thinking Dean. Jump me, take the blade. Kill us all. You behave or I’ll hop inside you. Let you watch from inside as I rape your brother over and over again with your own hands. Until the very sight of you makes him cower in fear.” Dean bucked at her. He’d never felt so much hate in his life. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we don’t want little Sammy to play the game. He is not our king. And were just here to help you make sure Azazel fails.” Dean pulled at the ropes around his wrists, he nearly had them untied. He had to keep her busy until he could make his move. “We're listening?” She smiled at him as she paced the space between the brothers. “Very soon he will come for your brother, take him somewhere he hasn’t shared with anyone. All his little babies will be there. And they will kill each other until only one remains.” She held up a single finger to emphasize her point. “That’s when he will give the winner the key to unlock the gates of hell. The newly crowned king of hell will release my kind along with our father Lucifer upon this world. The boy king will lead Lucifer’s army bringing about the apocalypse.” Dean gave Sam an apologetic look, noticing the pain in his baby brother's eyes. “And when the time comes you will know what you have to do Dean. And you must do it. You will. I have no doubt. You already discovered the means to do so. Remember these words when the time comes.”

The ropes holding him fell to the earth, he sprung into action. Punching the one holding him in the gut then spinning around lightening fast grabbing her by the throat. Taking the jagged blade from her hands, pressing the tip against her stomach. A hiss rose from the throat of Sam as the demon holding him pressed it’s own blade into the flesh of his adams apple, a thin line of blood running down his chest. The older Winchester fell to his knees in front of her. Dropping the blade, he sank, head dipped down in defeat. She picked it up, tucking it away inside her coat before bending down to face him. “That was unwise Dean. Little Sammy could have died and it would be all your fault.” She ran her fingers through his hair, causing him to jerk away from her touch. Her lips pursed tightly in a thin line. “Sweet Sammy will have to pay for your mistakes Dean. He’ll never forgive you raping him right here while we watch.” She ran a finger tip across his shoulder. His eyes glazed over as he began to crawl across the pavement in Sam’s direction. Once he reached his goal, the demon moved the blade, moving to stand next to Danni.

“That’s it Dean. I’ve made you high off of your sinful lust. Maybe when you’re done my friend can have a go with your brother while you and I have a roll in the hay.” Dean pressed into Sam, grinding his hips into him. “Dean stop it.” Dean shoved his brother backwards. He forced himself on Sam, climbing on top of him, the look in his eyes was lazy, sleepy, and sort of hazed over. “You’re high as a kite.” Dean pressed his lips against Sam’s neck, holding him down with his strong hands. “No Dean stop it I mean it.” It was as if Dean couldn't hear him. He had no idea what he was doing as he leaned up, trying to undo the button on Sam's jeans. “No!” Sam barked out at him. Dean wouldn't listen. “STOP THIS!” Sam screamed, his anger boiling over out of him. It manifested out of his body like a wave. Sending the two demons flying back. The male smoked out of the corpse he wore, leaving the body dead on the ground, disappearing into the night. Danni took off running into the woods, disappearing from sight. Sam clocked his brother with his fist, knocking him out cold. He drug Dean's unconscious body to the impala, hefting him into the back seat. He never saw the yellow eyed crow perched on the street light watching him as he drove out of the parking lot.

Dean woke as the sun rose in the morning sky. He sat up in the back seat, rubbing his forehead. He felt hung over. “What happened.” Sam glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “What do you remember?” he watched for his brothers response in the mirror. “I remember dropping the blade and then nothing, everything was black.” Dean cracked his neck then lolled his head down glancing at the sticky wet spot on the crotch of his jeans. “Dude I think I had a wet dream…fucking jizzed myself like a fourteen year old.” Sam laughed out loud. “Serves you right. That bitch used some kind of magic on you and you threw yourself on me.” A dark seriousness came over his older brother's face. “Sammy I would never…not if you didn’t want it.” Sam smiled a warm forgiving smile at him. “Dude I know, it wasn’t you.” Dean leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Sam. “I’m sorry.” Sam patted his brother's hand. “I know. Love you too.” Dean hopped over the seat, placing gentle kisses on Sam’s neck. “Can we find a place with a shower.” Sam glanced down at the wet spot on his jeans, laughing. “Yeah you need to wash away the preteen shame.” Dean nipped at his neck. “Smartass.” He placed his arm around Sam’s shoulders. They spoke no words. The truth of the future heavy between them. Dean knew he couldn’t tell Sam about the vision he had seen with the crossroads demon. Sam believed what he'd heard from Danni to be the secret Dean had been keeping. They stayed that way until Sam pulled into a motel parking lot.

Once inside their room they tossed their duffle bags onto the bed, digging around for clean clothes. They showered, washing each others bodies, exchanging sweet kisses as the hot water poured over them. They didn’t speak to each other. Just communicating through touch. Dean felt guilty, for unconsciously trying to force himself on Sam and for still not having been honest with him about the vision. Sam willing him to know that he was okay. They stepped out of the shower. Toweling off, getting dressed in baggy sweatpants and comfy tee shirts. Dean sprawled out on the bed turning the tv on as Sam ordered a pizza. “Hey double pepperoni.” He called out as Sam rolled his eyes at him. Sam hung up the phone, laying on the bed next to Dean, who was currently flipping channels at a rapid rate. “Can you just pick something.” Dean stopped on a gay porn. The two muscled men on the screen engaging in a 69. Sam cleared his throat. “De really?” the older Winchester laughed. “Why haven’t we ever tried that before?” He asked. They both tilted their heads to the side, in unison. Thinking about it as they watched the two on screen deep throat each other. The two men on screen were seen slicking up a huge double sided dildo with lube. “Damn which one you thinks gonna take that bad boy.” Dean said.

The two men lined it up with both of their entrances, sinking down onto it until they both consumed it, grinding their asses together as they stroked each other ,moaning loudly. Sam eyed Dean slyly. “Why haven’t we tried that?” he said. Dean fidgeted for the remote quickly changing the channel. “Nope, nope, no.” he said as Sam laughed. “You’d never let me fuck you?” he asked. Dean looked at him nervously. “Why do you want to?” he replied. Sam shook his head. “No…not particularly. I mean I’m sure it’d feel good. But I like the feeling of you inside me.” Dean ran a finger down Sam’s chest, playing with the draw string of his sweatpants. “Good, cause I love being inside you.” The door bell rang. Sam stood up, walking to the door. He paid for the pizza, returning to the bed, flipping the box top open. They ate in quiet while watching some campy straight to DVD horror movie. They laughed as the hot blond girl on screen ran threw the woods, tripping over her own feet. Allowing the killer to catch up. “Bitches always tripping over nothing.” Dean spoke with a mouth full of pizza. Sam smirked as the jock and head cheerleader started the stereotypical if you have sex in a scary movie you die scene. “Come on guys don’t you know premarital sex always gets you killed in these cabin in the woods films?” Sam sarcastically joked. Once they finished eating they slipped under the covers.

Laying so close they could feel each others heat. Dean kissed Sam’s neck, slowly, seductively. Whispering sweet nothing’s into Sam’s ear. Causing the younger man to gasp. As the credits rolled across the screen Dean shifted his weight so he was laying on top of Sam. He spread Sam’s legs, placing himself between them. Leaning down over the younger man’s long torso, sucking lazily on his ear. “Thought I was gonna lose you baby boy.” He said as he kissed the small cut on Sam’s throat. Sam held is brother's face in his hands. “I’m not going anywhere De. I’m yours. Forever and always.” They laced their fingers together, the twin rings pressing into each other. They kissed tenderly, just drinking each other in. Dean pulled Sam’s sweatpants off while Sam pulled his shirt off. Dean pushed his own sweats down to his knees, his shirt tossed across the room.

They made love. Sweetly, slowly, taking their time. Fingertips trying to memorize the others bodies. Lips claiming each other. It was as if two halves of the same soul became one. Like if they separated the other would fade into nothingness. Each unknowingly trying to bury the fear of the secrets they keep from each other. They slept holding each other tightly. Refusing to let go. Sam woke to the warm morning sun coming through the windows of the motel room. His head had been nuzzled inti the crook of Dean's shoulder, his long legs intertwined with Dean's. Their bodies woven together as if they were a single being. Dean was still fast asleep, one arm wrapped protectively around Sam. The other possessively squeezing his ass cheek. He nuzzled his older brother’s neck. “De wake up.” Dean stretched out like a cat. His eyes lolling over to Sam. “Morning.” They shared tender kisses before getting out of bed. They eyed each other seductively as they dressed. Dean pulled a tee shirt on before pulling a button up over it. Sam slowly buttoned his own shirt biting his bottom lip as he watched his brother. Dean teased him back. Reaching slowly into his jeans to adjust himself, palming himself a little before licking his bottom lip. They laughed together. Finishing getting ready to leave. Moving about picking up their belongings and leaving the room.

They drove all day after deciding on the destination being California. Dean had never seen the ocean, felt the sand between his toes, made love to Sam as the midnight tide crashed around them. They stopped only to eat and use the restroom. They were in search for a motel to spend the night when Sam’s phone rang. “Hey Bobby! Got a case for us?” Sam’s voice was so happy it was practically smiling. “Forgive me boy but I couldn’t bare to be the one to tell your brother.” Sam’s smile faded Dean watched as the color drained from his face. Sam hung up the phone, reaching over to take Dean's hand in his own. “Dean pull over.” Dean gave him a look of confusion as he pulled the impala over to the emergency lane. Tears were pouring down Sam's cheeks. “It…its…” he couldn’t say it. “Sammy what's wrong?” Sam’s voice cracked with emotion. “Dad…is dead.”

* * *

 

Danni ran through the woods as fast as the humans legs would carry her. She glanced beside her, looking for something. She slammed right into something warm and hard. She fell back onto her butt. As she looked up her gaze met yellow eyes. Azazel grinned at her, his yellow teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Thought you could play me you little bitch?” he flicked his finger, causing her to be lifted into the air in front of him. She tried to struggle free. She couldn’t move an inch. He started searching inside her coat pockets. “You really thought you could steal the colt from me and give it to the Winchesters?” he teased as he pulled the demon blade from inside her jacket. “I’ve been working this game for 22 years. Someone as pathetic as you isn’t going to stop me.” He plunged the blade into her heart. Her body falling to the ground. He whistled a haunting tune as he stepped away into the night. “Let the games begin.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is unable to deal with John's death. He starts to become distant from Sam.

Sam stood in the middle of Singer's Salvage Yard as he stared at Dean’s legs sticking out from under the impala. “Need any help?”, he asked. “What you under a hood? I’ll pass.” Dean replied coldly. He slide out from under the car, walking over to a tool bench. “Anything else then?” Sam asked. “Stop it ok…stop asking if I need anything.” Sam placed his hands on his hips. “Ok De it’s just…we’ve been at Bobby's for almost 2 weeks now and you haven’t said a word about Dad.” Dean turned to look at his brother as he wiped grease from his fingers onto a rag. “You know what you’re right. Come here I’ll gently lay my head on your shoulder. Maybe we could cry and hug…maybe even slow dance.” He said it in a sarcastic tone. Giving a fake grin as he spoke. “Don't patronize me Dean. Dad is dead and I'm pretty sure the demon is behind this.” Dean scoffed at him. “What do you want me to say?” Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair. An agitated look on his face. “Anything Dean! Aren’t you angry? I mean all you do is sit out here under fucking cars all day and push me away at night. I’m hurting too Dean. I’m trying to help us.” Dean’s voice grew angry. “I don’t feel like fucking right now Sammy. But if you’re that desperate for it I’ll give it to you.” Sam’s jaw dropped open.

“How could you say that to me? This isn’t about sex…I’m just trying to comfort you Dean. I know you’re hurting right now. I’m not you’re fucking cockwhore. You’re the one that always has to get his dick wet to solve his problems so you tell me which one of us is desperate. Don’t treat me like your punching bag.” Dean flashed Sam a glare of warning. “We got nothing Sam. We got no leads. We can’t make heads or tails of Dad's research. And besides that...” He advanced on Sam leaning up to his full height. “That’s a lot of big talk you got there brother. I’m the desperate one? Which one of us started this hmm? Begging me to stick it in when you were only 16?” Sam also rose to his full height, towering over his older brother. “I was 18 our first time and you know it…” Sam stated. “Yeah after you’d been trying to throw that little jailbait ass at me for years.” They pressed their chests together, clinching fists in anger. Sam’s head was tilted down so that their foreheads were pressed together. Dean refused to let Sam’s height seem to intimidate him. “I don’t seem to remember you complaining about me throwing my 18 year old ass at you that first night.” Dean smirked an almost wicked grin. Flashing his white teeth as he spoke. Sam would have found him ravishingly handsome in that moment had he not smiled with pure malice.  
  
“Why should I have complained Sammy? I mean…you were just so damn easy. Straddling my dick, naked in the backseat.” He paused his words just long enough to push Sam back against the impala, placing his hands on either side of the younger man's shoulders. “Grinding that sweet little virgin ass against my cock. So damn easy. Anybody would have done it. It’s not everyday you get a little cock hungry slut ready to spread their legs and just let you in.” Sam shoved Dean off of him. “Fuck you Jerk.” The older Winchester laughed. He slammed his fist into Sam’s left cheek. “Fuck you bitch.” Sam didn’t skip a beat, returning the attack, slamming his own fist right into Dean’s nose. “I’m not like those skanks you used to bring home Dean. Don’t fucking talk to me like that again or…” His threat trailed off as he clinched Dean's shirt in his fist. “Or what? You’ll hit me again? Break up with me? You’re right Sam, you weren’t like the others, you were my perfect little brother who could do no wrong in his eyes. Which made sticking it to you just a little bit more fun. Perfect little Sammy. Always made perfect grades, always knew all the lore, always the smartest son, likes taking it up the ass from his big brother. But that’s over now. I’m bored with you.” Sam’s grip on him weakened.

“Stop it Dean. You’ll regret it later. You want to be alone fine…look we fight because we're brothers. But we’re also lovers…we’ve got to stop saying things just to hurt each other.” Dean pushed Sam’s hand off him. “Nah Sammy. It’s over. We’re brother's. That’s it.” They just stood there for a moment. “Fine…that’s how you want it to be then we're over. When you calm down maybe I’ll take you back…maybe not.” He turned, walking away, ignoring what Dean said next. “Take you back? You mean we will see how long it takes before you’re grinding on my dick again begging for it like a little bitch.” Dean paced the junk yard in anger. Mostly at himself because he knew Sam was right. He had always been prone to taking his anger out on his brother. But this time he knew he’d crossed a line. He picked up a crow bar, slamming it down into the trunk of one of the junk cars. He swung it down over and over again. As hard as he could. Again and again until the trunk was dented beyond repair. He tried to raise it again but his arms gave out in exhaustion so he just stood there, breathing heavy. Throwing the crow bar down to his feet, he marched back towards Bobby’s house.

Once inside he found Bobby and Sam sitting in the living room. Bobby raised an eye brow as Dean sat in the old man’s recliner, refusing to sit next to Sam on the couch. The Winchester's made zero eye contact, just staring off into opposite sides of the room. “Ok…what ever the fuck that’s about. I found this old phone in John's stuff. It’s got a message on it from a woman named Ellen. The message is four months old. I had Sam run a trace on the number and he got an address. I want you boys to check it out. See if there’s a lead on what happened to John.” He watched as the two sets of eyes glanced at one another briefly before darting back to staring at nothing again. “Now! Or do I have to sit here and watch your fucking lovers spat all damn day! Fucking idjits.”

Dean slammed the impala into park In front of a run down bar called Harvelle's Roadhouse. The place was closed. They picked the lock, walking in to look around. A man was laying on a pool table towards the back of the room, seemingly passed out drunk. “I’m guessing that’s not Ellen.” Said Sam. He walked into the back to what he assumed was the kitchen. As Dean looked around some more he stopped dead in his tracks at the feeling of something pressed into his lower back. “Oh god please let that be a rifle.” The voice that answered was that of a young woman. “Nah I’m just really happy to see you. Don’t move.” She followed it up with the sound of the gun being cocked. “You know you should know something Miss. When you put a rifle on somebody you don’t wanna put it right against their back. Cause it makes it really easy to do…” He spun around in a flash taking the gun from her, ejecting the shell from the chamber. “That.” He said, just before a pretty blond girl punched him square in the nose. She swung hard, causing him to stagger back as she snatched the gun right back, cocking it again and pointing it at him. “Sam, need some help in here.” He called. “I can’t see…I can’t even see this is the second time in less than 24 hours. Fuck that hurts.” He heard the kitchen doors swing open as Sam stepped out, his hands held together behind his head. “Sorry Dean, I can’t right now. I’m a little tied up.” An older blond woman walked out behind him, a colt python aimed at his head. The woman looked at them. “Sam? Dean?” She paused, “Winchester?” Dean glanced at her, still holding his hand against his nose, which was bleeding a little. “Yeah.” He grunted out. “Mom you know these guys?” The younger girl asked. “Yeah I think these are John Winchester's boys.” She laughed, flashing a smile, lowering the gun. “Hey I’m ellen. That’s my daughter Jo.”

She sat them down at the bar, handing a bag of ice to Dean, which he held against his nose. “So you called our dad and said you could help. Help with what?” Dean asked “The demon, I heard he was closing in on it” Dean scoffed at her. “Who the hell are you anyways?” She leaned back against the bar. “I just run a saloon. Hunters come through from time to time. John used to be like family.” “Yeah well how come we’ve never heard of you before?” Dean asked. “Hey if you don’t want my help that’s fine, but John wouldn’t have sent you unless…” She looked at them, her face growing soft. “He didn’t send you. Sam looked down at the floor, Dean slowly snuck a glance at Sam. He stared off, swallowing hard as she asked, “He’s alright isn’t he?” Dean stared blankly off into the distance. Sam sighed, looking up at her. “No…no he isn't. It was the demon, we think. Um…it just got him before he got it I guess.” She had a sort of pained sadness in her gaze. “I’m so sorry.” She offered. “Really lady we're fine.” Dean snapped, his eyes giving the demand to drop the subject. “Well we can’t help you. But Ash will.” The boys looked confused. “Ash!” She called out. The man sleeping on the pool table sprung up, spinning around. “What? Is it closing time?”

Ash who was apparently some sort of genius, told the boys that given 51 hours he could set up a way to make better use of John's research. Sam made conversation with Ellen, refusing to react to Dean glancing at Jo's ass as she walked around the bar. He knew Dean wasn’t really gay. That it was just something he told women while they were together because it was better than I’m fucking my brother. Dean rose from his stool, following her. He sat down at a table she was wiping off. “How’d your mom get into this stuff anyway?” He asked. “My dad, he was a hunter. He passed away.” She glanced down. Dean apologized. Smiling at her when she said she was just a kid when it happened. He was turning on his charm. “So I guess I got 51 hours to waste. Maybe tonight we could...” He trailed off. “You know what never mind…wrong place wrong time.” She giggled a little. “I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pick up line. Bunch of hunters think they can get in my pants with some pizza a six pack and side one of Led Zeppelin IV.” He smirked a bit. “What a bunch of scumbags.” She smiled. “Not you.” Sam cleared his throat standing at the door, agitation clearly written on his face. “Dean come on.”

Ellen offered to let them stay at her place but Sam humbly declined. Opting to find a motel instead. He knew they shouldn’t be around other people right now. Nobody else needed to know about them. They were bound to start fighting again when they were alone with a bed. Which they did once they were inside the room behind locked doors. “Why’d we have to rush out of there like that?” Sam didn’t reply, he fished around in his bag for his tooth brush. “You get jealous little brother?” Sam walked to the bathroom. “Fuck off Dean.” He stood in front of the sink, squeezing tooth paste onto the brush. Dean came up behind him pressing into his back, causing the sink to dig into his hip bone. He hissed at the pain. “Dean what are you doing?” If he was perfectly honest he didn’t know. He just stood there, his half hard cock pressed into Sam’s ass cheek. He was angry still. But Sam seemed to be unfazed by their break up. Which made him feel the need to show Sam what he was missing. “Dean…you broke up with me. This isn’t what normal brothers do. Fuck off.” Dean felt himself going soft. “I don’t know how anymore…to be a normal brother.” Their eyes met in the mirror. “I don’t want you to be anything but you. I just want us to be us.” Sam said. Dean wasn’t ready yet. He couldn’t let it go. He had to stay angry with Sam so he didn’t think about what was really wrong. He was lost. It had been 2 weeks and his body craved Sam’s, yet he still wouldn’t let himself. He turned tail, walking out of the bathroom saying. “It’s not like I want you back…it’s just old habits blah blah.” Sam could still feel his warmth as he brushed his teeth so hard his gums bled. His eyes staring into the mirror, empty.

They worked a case the next day. Nothing major, however Dean got a kick out of the fact that it dealt with clowns. Sam was deathly afraid of clowns. (And so am I which is why I’m skipping all of it. I can’t believe I even mentioned it.) After they killed the monster, they returned to the roadhouse to check up on Ash’s progress. Ellen handed them beers telling them how proud John would have been of them. Jo eyed Sam as she leaned against the bar. He smiled before he took the hint. Dean looked up at him as he stumbled with his words. “Oh yeah…I gotta go…over there….right now.” Dean tipped his beer up taking a drink before turning to watch Sam as he moved to the other side of the room. Sam watched them. Hating himself. Hating having to pretend like they were just brothers. Hating that Dean was technically single again and free to get with anyone he wanted. Everything had been going so perfect. He’d even gotten Dean to commit to actual boyfriend status. It had moved from being just sex and love for family into true love. And he knew that love was real. Dean was pushing him away, and he knew why. But it didn’t make it hurt any less. He pressed the cold metal of the ring Dean had given him against his lips. He couldn’t take it off. It was the symbol of their love, he’d never throw it away again. If Dean could wear his for two years faithfully he could do the same.

He watched Dean sit there. Staring at his beer. He was so handsome. His hair styled perfectly, his strong jaw line flawlessly shaven. He was wearing Sam’s favorite blue button up shirt. The nice one that clung to his sculpted body, making you think he was some sort of Greek sex god. He wore tight straight legged dark colored jeans that perfectly cupped his ass and length, which gave a peek to anyone curious enough to glance, that yes his cock was as big as they were imagining. He felt his heart break as he heard Jo speak. “So…am I going to see you again?” Dean turned his head slightly. “Do you want to?” she smiled, her long blond curls falling over her shoulders. “I wouldn't hate it.” He looked away from her as he spoke. “Can I be honest with you? See the old me…well he'd be hitting on you so fast your head would spin, but uh…these days…I don’t know.” He shook his head looking down at his beer bottle. “Wrong place wrong time? It’s ok I get it. Who’s the woman that broke your heart?” She said.

As if with perfect timing Ash burst through the doors from the back. A strange looking laptop in his hands. “Where the hell you guys been? I’ve been waiting for ya.” Sam placed his beer down on the table he leaned against. “We were working a job, Ash.” Ash seemed confused. “Clowns?” Sam offered up. “Clowns? What the fuck?” Ash blurted out. Dean smirked at the man. “Got something for us?” Sam followed with, “Did you find the demon?” He placed the laptop down on the bar between Jo and Dean. Sam smirked in satisfaction at this as he joined them at the bar. “No there’s no signs but if it raises it’s head I’ll know. I’m on it like divine of dog dookie.” He turned the laptop screen towards them. The windows on the screen showed all sorts of police scanners, weather and news trackers, among other things. “Any signs or omens anywhere in the world this baby is gonna go off like a fire alarm.” They said their goodbyes after agreeing that Ash would call them when he found anything. It was the most painful car ride back to Bobby’s for both of them. Silence until Dean turned the radio on. Sam stared out the window as the sounds of ‘Hard to say I’m Sorry’ by Chicago came through the speakers. Dean let the song play half way before changing the tape to play ‘Have you ever seen the rain’ by CCR. The meaning behind it not lost to Sam.

A few weeks passed. They bounced around as they got calls from Bobby and Ellen about different hunts. Dean threw himself into hunting like it were a life line. Sam watched in silent worry. Dean wasn't taking John's death well in the slightest. Sam knew the real reason they were broken up was because Dean didn’t have to talk to him about it if he forced himself to be alone. Sam would toss and turn at night in fear of how empty Dean was becoming. Dean would sit up fidgeting as he watched Sam’s restlessness, ignoring the impulse to hold Sam. The Winchester's had always been stubborn. They slept in separate beds, sat in silence in the car as the radio played. Always sad heartbroken songs or angry heavy rock. Today’s choice was angry rock, turned up to full volume, blasting through the speakers so no words could be spoken over the noise. Sam stared blankly out the window as the sounds of Metallica's ‘Fade to black’ filled the air. ‘Emptiness is filling me to the point of agony. Growing darkness taking dawn. I was me but now he’s gone…’ Sam sighed. Great, he'd moved to the self-loathing stage. From here the older Winchester would only grow increasingly more dangerous. Dean turned the volume dial down as Sam’s phone rang. “Yeah…ok…yeah…thanks Ellen.” Sam hung up the phone as Dean spoke his first words to him all day. “What'd she say?” Sam sipped his coffee. “A hotel in Cornwall Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past 3 weeks.” Dean didn’t make a sound. “It’s a job De. A lady drown in a bathtub and a guy fell down the stairs. His head did a complete 180. It might be nothing but I told Ellen we’d check it out.” Dean nodded but again said nothing as Sam took a map out and began giving him directions for the fastest route.

The impala pulled up in front of the Peirpont Inn. A creepy looking place, it seemed old, like it held secrets within its walls. As the boys got out of the car Dean gave a small smile. “Dude we never get to work jobs like this!” Sam threw his bag over his shoulder, shutting the car door. “Like what?” he said, handing Dean his own bag. “Old school haunted houses. You know…fog, secret passageways. Sissy British accents.” Sam gave a chuckle. As they paced up the stairs to the front door, Sam noticed something on a planter to his right. “Hey hold on a sec, I’m not so sure haunted is the problem. You see that?” Dean moved down the stairs. Standing close, but leaving enough space so that he couldn't feel Sam's warmth. Sam pretended not to notice. He pushed his feelings down, clearing his throat. He pointed at a symbol on the planter that looked like an X with a red dot in the center, as well as one on each tip. “That’s a Quincunx.” Dean seemed in thought for a second. “That’s used for hoodoo spellwork isn’t it?” Sam nodded. “Yeah you feel this thing with bloodweed, you got a charm that wards off enemies.” Dean looked around at the building. “Yeah except I don’t see any blood weed.”

They walked inside to find a brown haired woman standing behind the front desk. “Hi may I help you?” She said, smiling sweetly. “Yeah I’d like a room for a few nights.”, Dean replied, approaching the front desk. A young girl ran into the room, laughing loudly. She bumped into Sam as she passed. The woman apologized to them. Sam smiled, “No problem.” She wrote down their information in the hotel ledger as she eyed them. “ Congrats, you’re likely some of our last guests, were closing up at the end of the month. Let me guess you guys are here antiquing?” Dean loved when people gave them a story. Saves him the trouble of coming up with something himself. “How’d you know?” she gave a knowing smile as she replied. “Oh you just look the type. So…uh…king size bed?” Dean gave her a shocked look as Sam stumbled his words out. “What? No. Uh…were brothers. Two singles please.” She laughed nervously. “Oh I’m so sorry…”

Dean looked annoyed, Sam looked sad. Dean pressed her, angry with himself more than her. “What’d you mean we look the type?” She had the look of a small animal cornered by a hungry wolf. Sam interrupted, “Hey speaking of antiques, that’s a nice urn you have out front. Where did it come from?” She shook her head. “Oh I don’t know it’s been there for forever. Here you go sir.” She handed Dean his credit card, turning to grab a skeleton key from the wall behind her. “You’ll be staying in room 237.” She rang a bell on the counter. An older man walked into the lobby. “Sherwin could you show these gentlemen to their room please?” She asked as he eyed the brothers from head to toe. “Let me guess, antiquers?”

As they reached room 237 Sherwin unlocked the door handing Sam the key. Sam entered first with Dean close behind. Sam sat at a table placed in the corner of the room looking through articles about the victims as Dean paced around the room eyeing the décor with distaste. “Geez, I’m amazed they’ve stayed in business this long.” Sam ignored his complaints, but took note of his fidgeting. It had been almost two months since Dean had ended their physical relationship and it was starting to show. Throwing himself into hunts wasn’t quite taking the edge off as well as it did at first. His pent up sexual tension mixed with his anger over John's death left Dean like a grenade with the pin pulled. He was bound to explode at any second.

He was becoming increasingly more aggressive. Two weeks ago they worked a case with vampires. Dean knocked the beast to the ground below a mounted chainsaw rig, but instead of cutting it’s head clean off to end the fight, he took his time. It started with heavy, brutal, unnecessary punches to the vamps face. Followed by stabbing it in the heart with a spear like object he’d found near by on the fishing boat they were on. Finally it finished with Dean's jaw clinching tight as he lowered the saw, letting it slowly slice through the flesh of the vamps neck. He gave a deep animalistic moan. Sam grimaced at the sound. It was as if Dean got off on it. Like he was aroused by the feeling of blood splattering onto his face followed by the crunching of bones. His eyes were like empty pits, void of any emotion. The only light within was a stormy emerald nothingness. Dean turned to lock eyes with Sam as the vamps head hit the floor, licking blood from his lips.

Sam shook his head, pushing the memories away. As he started to speak Dean sat on an old couch in the middle of the suite, feeling himself sink down into it uncomfortably. He bounced his foot rapidly while his fingers spun his ring around and around. Fidgeting…any second now the grenade would blow. And Sam would be caught in the blast. Just how this would end for him? That he just didn’t know.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys work the case. Sam begs Dean to make a promise. Dean fights his inner demons.

“All right…victim number one, Joan Edison, 43 year old realtor handling the sale of the hotel. Victim number two, Larry Williams, a mover taking some stuff to a local goodwill.” Dean continued to bounce his foot. “Well, there’s a connection. They’re both tied up in shutting the place down.” Sam agreed. “Maybe someone doesn’t want to leave. So they’re using hoodoo to fight back.” Dean looked up at the ceiling. Trying to look anywhere but at Sam. “Who do you think our witch doctor is? Can’t be the owner she’s the one selling. Maybe Sherwin?” Sam gave a look that said he was unsure. “I don’t know.”

They set out to investigate more of the hotel. As they walked around they didn’t really find much that stood out at first. The place was old for sure, but we’ll kept. The pictures and knick-knacks were all dusted. “Hey look at this.” Sam said as he held out a vase for Dean to look at. “It’s the same symbol as before. More hoodoo.” Dean looked up to see the door a few feet away from them with the word ‘Private’ on it in faded letters open. Sam placed the vase back down, acting casual as the owner and her daughter walked out.

“Hi there, everything ok with your room she said?” The boys smiled as Sam said, “Yes it’s great. Sorry we never caught your name.” She smiled back. “I’m Susan and this is Tyler.” The little girl was practically beaming at Sam. He knelt down to her level. “Hi Tyler. It’s very nice to meet you. That’s a pretty doll you have there. What happened to it?” Sam was referring to the doll she held with it’s head turned around backwards. “Maggie was being mean and I just found it this way. Sherwin is going to fix it so grandma Rose doesn’t get mad.” She placed a hand on her shoulder. “Well I’m sure your sister didn’t mean it. Brother’s and sister’s fight some times but they still love each other.” The girl gave him a hug. “Can I ask you something?” Tyler asked shyly, letting him go. Susan ran her hand down the girls hair lovingly. “Sweetie we shouldn’t bother the guests.” Sam looked up to her, waving his hand. “No it’s fine. What did you want to ask me Tyler?” The girl looked from him to Dean in confusion. “You’re a prince and he’s a prince too…but Maggie says you should be with a princess.” Susan interrupted her cutting her off. “Well Tyler that’s my brother but he’s not a prince. He’s a strong brave knight. And you’re the first princess I’ve met. So maybe one day I’ll meet another princess and have a fairy tale ending. Right?” The little girl smiled at him sweetly as he rose back up. “Sorry. Come on sweetie let’s get the doll fixed and get back to grandma in a hurry. She’s not feeling well today.” Sam gave an apologetic look as Susan dismissed them. “Hope Grandma gets better soon.”

As they walked back to their room the boys talked in hushed voices. “So what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?” Dean asked. “I mean dolls have been used in hoodoo for curses and binding spells.” As they reached the door Dean said, “Ok I’ll go see what I can dig up on granny. You check out old obituaries and freak accidents. See if she’s whacked anybody before.” Sam nodded as Dean walked away without another word. Hours passed but Sam couldn’t bring himself to research. He was alone with all his pain, just like Dean wanted to be. Except Sam didn’t. This was the time when guilt for fighting with his Dad the last time they spoke sank in. This was the time when losing Dean came to the surface. He pulled a bottle from the small bar in their room, pouring a glass full of amber liquid, taking it to the head. The taste of whiskey burned like fire in his throat. He poured another and guzzled it down with haste. By the time he reached the bottom of the bottle it was dark outside.  
Flashing lights came through the window as he rose to peek outside. An ambulance was carrying someone out in a body bag as Susan looked on in disbelief. As Sam placed him self back into his chair the door swung open. “There’s been another one. Guy that was with the company buying the place hung himself in his room. We gotta do something fast.” Sam gave a mumble, “I know I saw.” Dean was digging around in his hunting bag. “What’d you find out about granny?” Sam’s voice was heard slurring his words. “You’re…bossssy.” Dean’s head turned. “What?” Sam held his arms open in a ‘I don’t know gesture’. “You’re bossy, and rough.” He laughed. “You like it rough.” Dean’s face was serious. “Your drunk…dude what are you thinking were working a case?”

His eyes wore sorrow. “I couldn't save that guy. I should have saved him. I shoulda saved Dad too.” Dean leaned back against the bar. “Yeah well you can’t save everyone.” No! You don’t understand! The more people I save the more I can change.” Sam slammed his fist down on the table next to him. “Change what?”, said Dean. “My destiny, Dean! You heard what Danni said. Yellow eyes wants me to lead his fucking army of demons!” Dean helped Sam to his feet. “Alright, time for bed Sasquatch. Lets go.” Sam flailed his arms, weakly fighting back in his drunken state. “No Dean you have to take care of me!” Dean patted his back as the reached the bed. “Yeah I always do.” “No! You have to watch out for me De. And if I ever turn into something I’m not you gotta kill me.” Dean sat him down on the bed. “Don't you ask that of me.” Sam looked up at him. “No De. It’s gotta be you. You gotta promise me.” Dean shook it off. “Come on Sammy lay down.” Sam was still fighting back, his face was begging. “No De, please promise me. I know you don’t love me anymore but please.” Dean gave in. “Alright! I promise just stop.”

At that promise Sam settled down. His hands rose up to grip each side of Dean’s face. He hissed at the touch. “Thank you.” He leaned in, lips parted slightly, so close the tips of their noses touched. Dean pulled back slightly, tightly gripping Sam’s wrists. Sam’s face was needy. Dean’s was pained. He leaned in once more his lips just centimeters away from the older mans. Dean pulled away again, pushing Sam back, forcing him to lay down. Then moving to sit on the edge of his own bed, putting space between them. Sam just lay there, rejection written all over his face. He rolled over onto his stomach, pushing his arms up under his pillow. Turning away, he hide his face before tears started to flow from tightly shut eyes as Dean walked out of the room.

Dean descended the stairs to the hotel lobby. He stepped into the lounge area to find Sherwin behind the bar. The place was stunning for it’s age. Dean smiled, the place looked like something straight out of ‘The Shining’. Sherwin greeted him as he took a seat at the bar. “So find any good antiques sir?” Dean gave a long tired sigh. “No I uh…got distracted.” Sherwin was busy pouring Dean a bourbon on the rocks. They drank together as they discussed the deaths that took place in the hotel. They spoke of the history of the estate. How Susan’s mother, Rose grew up there. They walked around the lobby as Sherwin pointed to old photos of Rose when she was younger. One in particular of Rose and her nanny, Marie, caught Dean’s eye. The nanny had the same symbol carved into the urn around her neck.  
Dean walked back into his room late that night to find Sam still sleeping. He lay awake on his bed for what seemed like hours. Lost in thought. Hating his life. Hating the current state of things with Sam. Hating himself. Just as he dozed off he felt a weight shift onto his lap, straddling his hips. He opened his eyes gripping the blade he kept under his pillow, bringing it to the throat of his assailant. The smell of whiskey mixed with sandalwood perfumed shampoo filled his nostrils. He dropped the blade to the floor. His name from Sam’s lips was like a ghostly whisper. Wanton and needy, yet dark and empty.

Sam pinned the older man down to the mattress with his hands above his head, the other hand trailing sensitive skin under the fabric of Dean’s shirt. Pressing his weight into Dean he ran his tongue up his neck stopping to suckle gently on his ear. “Come on Sam stop it.” Dean’s voice didn’t match his words. It was thick with desire. Sam moaned softly at the feel of his jean covered erection sliding against Dean’s own half hardness, feeling it’s heat growing thick as it awakened. They struggled for what seemed like minutes. Grunting from Dean as he tried to escape Sam’s grip. Small moans from Sam as he was flipped onto his back , shoved away, then regaining his grip by wrapping his long muscled legs around Dean’s powerful hips.

Dean placed his hands against the back of Sam’s knees where they were weaker to break the hold, shifting to back away. But Sam gripped him by the front of his button up shirt pulling down to force Dean into a crouched position over him, slamming their lips together. Dean jerked away from the kiss, breathing hot and heavy. Dean just hovered there for a moment, hands placed on Sam’s knees on either side of his hips. Sam arching up, supporting himself on both palms, shaggy hair tumbled down over lust fueled hazel eyes. Urgent movement erupted out of them. Dean painfully gripped a fist full of that shaggy mane, snapping Sam’s head back as he slammed his free hand against the top of the headboard with an iron grip. The sounds of buttons popping then skipping across the hardwood floor as Sam ripped Dean’s button up open, his hands greedily roaming tanned skin beneath. Dean's lips devoured Sam in a fight for obedient submission. His tongue claiming Sam. The younger man melted beneath Dean’s assault, moaning like a wild thing. Dean shifted to flip Sam over onto his knees. His vice like grip pulling Sam’s hair to tilt his head allowing his neck to be claimed. A weak yelp echoing into the darkness as teeth marked the skin there. Dean’s free hand sliding down the dip in Sam’s back. Then fisting the waist band of Sam’s jeans to pull back, forcefully pressing Sam’s ass against his erection. Sam whimpered with need. Dean grumbled out something purely animal.

Dean worked the front of his jeans, freeing his massive length. He fumbled with the button of Sam’s jeans for a moment. Unable to free it from the current angle he ripped it free, busting the zipper in the process. He once against gripped the back waist band, jerking them down to Sam’s knees. The hand in Sam's hair slide around to shove two fingers into his mouth, which Sam sucked like they were Dean's cock. His free hand slapped Sam's ass gripping the right cheek tight, pulling it to expose Sam’s pink little hole. Sam blushed at the exposure, his head bobbing back and forth on Dean's fingers in his mouth. Moaning around them as Dean spit on his entrance and slide his dick between Sam’s ass cheeks. It was throbbing thick and heavy as Dean lazily thrust it back and forth between those perfect dimpled cheeks. The younger Winchester pawed at the sheets his brother's fingers slide to the back of his tongue, attempting to push into his throat even though they weren’t quite long enough. Sam’s own erection hung between his spread legs, pulsing, the head purple and swollen in it’s untouched state. Dean spit on the tip of his dick, pressing it against Sam’s entrance, teasing the muscle by pushing into it just enough to spread it some, but not entering it. Sam was coming apart.

“ _Letting your baby brother rut under you like a bitch in heat. You're just as much to blame as he is._ " John Winchester's voice rang in Dean’s memory. He shook his head, wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, tapping the head against Sam’s hole a few times. He pushed his fingers in and out of Sam’s mouth, pulling himself back into the moment with the sound of spit squishing from the movement mixed with his baby boy’s whimpers. “ _Mary would be so disappointed in what her boys have become_.” He groaned like a feral creature, squeezing his eyes shut tight, his fingers falling out of Sam’s mouth. When he opened his eyes again the sight before him was more than even a man with the strongest of will could resist. Sam’s hands were spreading his ass cheeks apart, his chest flat against the mattress, head turned to the side, one hazel eye staring at Dean through messy brown bangs. Lips parted in breathy need. Dean placed one hand over Sam’s own, the other that had been in Sam’s mouth shoving the two wet fingers inside Sam all the way to the last knuckle. He watched as Sam’s eyes grew large and he let out a loud shriek. “Fuck Sammy.” He grumbled out at the warm tightness surrounding his fingers. The younger man bucked his hips back into Dean’s fingers, begging for it. Sam didn’t care if Dean rode him dry with no prep in that moment. As long as Dean would indeed ride him. “De…fuck me. De please, need your cum inside. Need to feel you filling me again.”

  
“ _You’re both dead to me_.” Johns voice clawed inside Dean’s skull. Dead to me…Dead. Sam’s eye that had been watching saw Dean’s face go blank, he was somewhere else. Dean’s fingers stopped moving inside him.

* * *

 

Dean stood beside Sam. Tossing a lit torch onto the funeral pyre before him. John’s body was wrapped in a plain white sheet. Sam sniffed next to him, wiping tears from his eyes as the flames consumed the body. The reflection of fire the only light inside Dean’s eyes.

* * *

 

Dean bit his bottom lip, grunting in anger. He pulled his fingers out of Sam. Spitting on the tip of his dick once again, pressing it into Sam’s entrance. Sam just took it, still spreading his cheeks apart for Dean to enter. Dean pushed in past the first ring of muscle, hissing at the dryness. Sam squealed beneath him at the pain. Dean doubled over, pressing his forehead against Sam’s back, gripping Sam’s hair again, pulling it tight as he tried to push in a bit further. It was to tight, to dry. Dean was to big to fit with out lube. If he stopped to get it would he have the strength to return to the bed? He pulled out. Punching the head board causing Sam to flinch and lay flat on the bed. He rose up off the bed walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. It was over, John had won.

  
Dean stood in front of the mirror. The vision of Sam haunting him. The way the arch of his back curved. His plump ass cheeks filling his hands as he held them spread. Shaggy brown hair falling around his face. Deep hazel eyes full of need. He heard Sam's feet padding across the hardwood floors before returning to the bed. Heard the sound of a cap pop, followed by the sound of lube squirting out onto Sam’s hands. Heard the squishing of Sam fingering himself as he stroked his cock, moaning out Dean’s name. Dean stroked his cock furiously, as he listened to Sam pleasing himself in the next room. “De….mmm…Dean please….” Biting his lip to muffle a moan escaping as he came in his hand.

  
After he came down from the high of orgasm he looked at his face in the mirror, panting, sweat glistening on his forehead, hand full of his own cum. He hated what he saw. How did things get so complicated. He was miserable. And he was just making Sam miserable too. He actually thought Dean didn’t love him anymore. And Dean could blame nobody but himself. Tucking himself back into his jeans he turned on the water and began washing his hands. Once his hand was rinsed he pumped soap from the dispenser and slathered it up, glancing at himself in the mirror. His face was disgusted. He washed his hands harder, but every time he glanced up he grew more angry with the person staring back at him. He scrubbed so hard his skin turned red. With one last glance up his face bore hatred. He slammed his fist into the glass, breaking the mirror turning the glass into jagged puzzle pieces.

Morning sun filled the room with light as Dean rose out of bed, crossing the room shrugging out of the open button up, pulling a plain black tee over his naked chest. “How you feelin Sammy?” He chuckled at the sounds of Sam retching leaned over the toilet came from the open bathroom door. “Guess mixing Whiskey and Jager wasn’t such a smart idea was it? Yeah I bet you don’t remember a thing from last night do ya?” Sam groaned hoarsely “No, I can still taste the tequila.” He shifted sitting back on the bathroom floor with a hiss. “Did we…hook up?” Dean laughed. “No dude…” Sam gave him a puzzled look. “You sure…cause I feel sore like” Dean interrupted him. “Nah must have had a little solo fun Sammy cause I came back late and found you passed out in my bed.” He walked into the bathroom as Sam leaned back over the toilet. “Hey so guess what, when grandma Rose was a tyke she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace.” Sam glanced over at him. “So you think she taught Rose hoodoo?” Dean flinched at the smell of booze mixed with vomit. “Yes I do…ugh…dude that’s…ew.” Sam stood up, walking over to Dean. “Ok well we should talk to Rose then.” Dean backed away. “I think you should brush your teeth first.”

After making sure no-one was inside the room behind Susan’s door, Sam picked the lock. This part of the hotel was like a house within a house. They crept upstairs to the bedrooms. Finding a door cracked open. They stepped in to find an elderly woman sitting alone in a wheelchair facing a window. They approached her carefully. “Mrs. Thompson we aren’t here to hurt you we just…” His voice trailed off as he took in her appearance. The way her eyes followed him without her head moving. Gasp like sounds came from her lips but she couldn't speak. “Dean. This woman’s had a stroke.” Dean sighed. “Hoodoo is hands on. You gotta mix herbs and chant and shit.” Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah…I mean she can’t do it.” Dean glanced at her. “Maybe she’s faking.” Sam joked. “Yeah well what do you want to do, poke her with a stick?” Dean seemed to be considering it. “Dude! You’re not gonna poke her with a stick.” Sam said in an annoyed voice. “What the hell are you doing in here?” Susan said from behind them. “I want you out of my hotel in less than two minutes or I’m calling the cops.” They both turned, walking out of the room. They dropped their bags in baby’s trunk, pulling out of the driveway in haste. Dean circled around, parking down a side street. They stepped out, watching the place from the woods.

They had been out there for a few hours. Sam rubbed his back side. “Dude are you sure nothing happened between us last night, cause I’ve never been this sore from fingers. Feels like I’ve been fucked dry.” Dean cleared his throat. “Dude I told you no.” Sam gave him a confused look. “How come I can smell you all over me?” Dean shushed him as Susan walked out of the front door carrying boxes. Placing them into the trunk of her car. She closed the trunk. Stepping in front of the car. The wind blew ominously. To her right the swing seat started to move. She watched in shock as the seesaw moved by itself as well. She didn’t notice the car behind her turn on by it’s self. As she reached out to stop the seesaw the rev of the car engine sounded behind her. It was coming straight at her, picking up speed. It was right on her heels as Sam jumped out, pushing them out of its path. The car crashed into a near by tree. Dean ran up fast behind him. They ushered her inside. Handing her a glass of whiskey she asked for. “What the hell happened out there?” She asked between gulps of liquor. “Well…first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that was definitely a spirit.” Dean responded.

They pushed info out of her. “Look we don’t have time to ease into this we need to know when your mother had the stroke?” Sam stated. “About a month ago why?” she replied. Sam turned to Dean. “Same time the killings started. Rose must have been working hoodoo to ward off the spirit. Susan we need to get you and your mother and daughters out of here.” She blinked in confusion. “I only have one daughter.” Dean looked puzzled. “I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie?” She shook her head. “No Maggie is her imaginary friend.” The Winchesters gave each other a knowing looks. “Come on Susan think did anyone live here with the name Maggie?” She seemed to realize something. “My mom had a sister named Margaret, she drowned in the pool.”

The three of them ran to the pool house. Peering in through the foggy glass to see Tyler standing on the other side on the balcony rail inside. Sam and Dean slammed their bodies into the glass doors. They wouldn’t give. “Jesus what is this bullet proof glass?” Dean yelled. Dean ran around the building with Susan trying the windows. As Tyler slipped from the edge into the water Sam picked up a heavy flower pot near by smashing it into the glass. After two heavy blows it finally burst. He ran into the room jumping into the water. Lifting the girl up, carrying her over to the side, laying her down just as Dean kicked in the back door. Susan rushed in, taking the girl into her arms as she spit up water, gasping for breath. “Tyler do you see Maggie anywhere?” Sam asked. She looked around the room. “No she’s gone.”

They returned to Susan's room to get Rose before they left. A scream came from the room upstairs. The boys bolted up the stairs. They found Susan clutching Tyler close, shielding her face. Rose was dead. The coroner showed up a short time later, taking her body away. The four of them stood out front. Susan looked up at them. “The paramedics said it was another stroke. Do you think Margaret had something to do with it?” Dean replied, “Its possible. Tyler you sure Maggie’s not around anymore?” She girl skipped closer to them. “Yeah, I’d see her if she were here.” Sam and Dean helped the two ladies into a cab. Watching as it pulled away. Once it was out of sight they tracked back through the woods to the impala. Dean was going on about how he let Sam save them so he wouldn’t feel useless. “Yeah…well it doesn’t change what we talked about last night Dean.” Dean sighed. “We talked about a lot of things last night.” He was trying to cover. “You know what I’m talking about.” “You were wasted Sam.” Sam eyed him knowingly. “Yeah but you weren't. And you promised.” They both opened the car doors, sliding in, shutting them behind them. “What else do you remember?” Dean couldn't help himself. He had to know. “Everything…what happened De? I know you want this as much as I do.” Dean cleared his throat. He turned the key in the ignition, bringing baby to life. Her purr sounding followed by the sounds of Billy Squier’s ‘Lonely is the night’ began to play.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean opens up to Sam. Sam goes missing. Jo learns a disturbing truth about Dean.

Dean lay alone on his bed painfully aware of Sam staring at him from across the room. He tried to focus on anything else he could find. The movie on TV was boring. The room they were in had a hideous billiard themed décor. Oh no here it comes… Sam’s feet padding across the floor. His sweat pants drawstring untied making them hang loosely around his hips. A bit of v-cut hip bone peeking out. Tee shirt clinging tightly to his chest. His feet stopping just at the side of Dean’s bed. He shifted uncomfortably as hazel eyes took in his naked chest. And leading down to the waist band of his basketball shorts. Hoarsely spoken words came out. “Remember when we were kids…when I couldn't sleep. You’d let me lay down with you? Can we do that?”

It was dangerous. Letting Sam bring his scent, his warmth so painfully close. Dean shifted over on the bed, making room. Sam lowered himself down. His lanky body molding into Dean's side as he nuzzled into the embrace. Laying his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder. Dean placed his arm protectively around his little brother. Sam placing a tentative palm over The older man’s stomach. Dean cleared his throat. It was fine…this was normal for big brothers to do…right? “Can we just talk about it?” Sam asked while his fingers drew circles across Dean's hip bone. “Talk about what?” Dean cleared his throat. This was dangerous, he knew that. “About what happened the other night? Why you just…stopped.” Dean ran his free hand down his face, staring up at the ceiling, he exhaled loudly through his nose. “De…what are we doing? I know you want this. Know you want me.” The calloused tip of Sam’s index finger worked it’s way under the waist band of Dean’s shorts. It traced invisible patterns down hard hip bone, stopping just above the base of Dean’s slowly responding length.

It teased, so close to it’s goal but never touching. Dean’s hand on Sam’s shoulder squeezed tight. “Its ok De. Just let it go. I forgive you. There’s no need to keep punishing yourself.” Sam pressed their lips together timidly, unsure of how Dean would respond. It could go one of two ways. He’d shove him away to walk out of the room. Or he’d harshly kiss back becoming handsy, roughly turning Sam over and taking what he wants. How wrong Sam was. Dean stayed perfectly still. His jaw clinched tight against soft wanting lips. Emerald staring down into hazel, searching, considering. Battling inner demons. Until Sam watched Dean’s eyes close. Felt Dean’s lips open to claim Sam’s bottom lip between them. Sam’s eyes remained open, watching Dean for any sign of the fallout that was surely coming. Dangerous indeed. This version of Dean so unpredictable. Neither of them deepening the kiss. Just softly ghosting lips together, feeling each other. Their breath mingling together. Dean’s tongue flicked across Sam’s bottom lip, parting them softly demanding entry.

Sam obeyed parting his lips further, allowing Dean’s tongue to snake inside as it gingerly explored. A moan escaped from Dean, a low grumble deep in his throat. He twisted slightly, moving only his upper body so that he was resting with his elbows on either side of Sam’s face. Sam didn’t dare make a sound in the chance it would break the spell as Dean’s finger tips tangled in his hair. They kissed with a tender eagerness. Sam softly gasping as Dean bit his bottom lip, nibbled on Sam's chin. He pressed their foreheads together, his hot breath ghosting across Sam’s face. Sam’s finger inside Dean’s shorts accidentally went to far down. Brushing against the base of Dean’s erection and there it was. Dean’s fingers moved from Sam’s hair to fisting the sheets. His shoulders shaking from the strain of holding in violence that clawed it’s way to the surface. Sam pulled his hand away, leaning up to try and gently kiss Dean again. Dean grunted in protest like a wild thing. The sound echoing in the room like a lament. Gripping Sam by the throat pushing him back against the mattress again, holding him there. His eyes opened again to reveal that dark stormy green. He panted like a needy animal as his fingers around Sam’s neck grew slack. He shifted back onto his knees, kneeling before his little brother, head bowed in shame.

Sam mimicked Dean’s position, bringing himself onto his knees. He took Dean’s hands, bringing them in front of them about chest level, pressing his palms flat against Dean's. “Don’t. It’s ok. You don’t have to fight it.” Dean’s voice was so lustfully dark it almost sounded unfamiliar. “I’m bad at love Sammy…you deserve better.” Sam pleaded with him. “I don’t want anybody else, there’s only you.” Dean shook his head. “You don’t understand! Your touch…it’s like a fever inside me. Since dad…” He trailed off, unable to say it. “I’ve done things to you that I can’t speak…and I try to push you away but you just won’t leave me be. Both of you….you're haunting me. I’m not in control…” he spoke no more, just laced his fingers with Sam's, squeezing so tightly the younger man hissed. “Dean you’re scaring me…I don’t know how to fix you. You’re becoming something you’re not. Dangerous…unpredictable. You hunt like it’s a suicide mission. Do you…want to…hurt me?” Dean’s eyes darted to meet Sam's. “No I….but I am. I can’t do this Sammy. You should run as far away from me as you can.” Sam leaned in, pressing their lips together. Dean groaned from a deep place unknown, shoving Sam back down on the bed hard. “Dean…use me. Let it all go into me.” Dean’s eyes darted around the room looking for a place to escape as Sam’s nails drug down his stomach, leaving red whelps in their wake.

Dean jumped up from the bed with desperate speed. John’s voice hammering inside his head. “ _While you’ve been here…fucking your brother I’ve found the thing that killed my Mary_!” The only place he could run was into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him, firing the lock home. He slide down the wood door, his hands pressed against his temples. “ _Bad seed_!” John haunted him. He heard Sam sliding down to the floor on the other side of the door. He jumped up, turning the shower on, stripping his clothes in haste. He jumped in before the water was hot. Hissing at the sting of cold water pouring over his flesh. Burning with the fire Sam ignited inside him. He remained there until the water ran cold again. When he stepped out into the room…Sam was gone.

  
Dean stood outside under a bridge leaning against the impala. A week had passed since Sam disappeared. Dean was more than unhinged, practically in a full on panic. He held his phone up to his ear. “Ellen, it’s me again. Any chance you’ve heard from him?” He paused, waiting for her reply. “Fuck I swear it’s like looking for my dad all over again. I’m losing my mind. Yeah I’ve called him a thousand times he’s not picking up. Sam’s just gone!” His phone beeped, signaling a second incoming call. He held it out to look at the number. The screen read ‘Baby Boy’. “Hey hold on!” he yelled out to Ellen, clicking the button to answer the call. “Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you ok?” he listened to Sam’s panicked voice on the other line. “Hey hey hey! Calm down, stay there I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone, running over to the drivers side of the impala. He floored the gas, speeding away to get to Sam as fast as he could.

  
Hours later he pulled up in front of a skeezy looking motel room in a town called Twin Lakes. He barely put baby in park before he ran out of the car into the building. He rushed down a hallway of doors, finding the room number Sam had given him, beating on the door. It opened on its own. He slowly stepped inside, cautious of what he might find on the other side. “Sammy?” He called out. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands and shirt covered in dried blood. He rushed to Sam’s side. “Are you bleeding?” Sam stared at the ground. “I tried to wash it off…” Dean pulled his jacket to the side, exposing just how much blood was on Sam’s shirt. “Oh my god!” he pawed at the material, trying to assess Sam’s wounds. “I don’t think it’s my blood Dean.” Dean sighed in relief. “Who’s is it?” Sam’s eyes slowly rose to meet his. “I don’t remember anything.”

Dean had left to speak to the motel manager. He returned fast, pacing the room. “Well you checked in two days ago. Nobodies noticed anything, it’s been quiet.” Sam hadn’t moved from the edge of the bed. “What if I hurt somebody Dean?” His older brother shot him a glare. “Lets not jump the gun here. This is just another job. What’s the last thing you remember?” Sam seemed to be thinking about it. “I remember we were in that hotel room in West Texas. We were fighting…I guess. I remember sitting outside the bathroom door waiting for you to come out. That’s it.” Dean sighed. “That was over a week ago.” Sam bit his lip. “Next thing I knew I woke up here, bloody.” Dean was fidgeting, but Sam didn’t seem to notice. “Ok well let’s retrace your steps. Manager said he saw you leave yesterday but didn’t see you come back.” He had an idea. He moved to the window, pulling back the curtains. Bloody finger prints marked the glass. Dean looked out back to see a storage unit facility.

They paced around the back parking lot for a few minutes. Sam stopped looked to his side, stepping off over to one of the units. Dean looked at the lock on the unit as Sam spoke softly. “Wait…” he pulled a key from his pocket. Dean opened the unit to find an old rusted blue classic VW beetle inside. “Oh please tell me you didn’t steal this thing.” They searched the car. Sam found more blood on the steering wheel. “Hey Sam…Backseat.” Dean pointed. A bloody knife was laying sticky in the back floorboard. Sam held it up. “You think I used this on someone?” Dean didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not thinking anything.” Sam wiped his prints from the blade, tossing it back onto the floorboard. Dean held up a pack of menthol cigarettes. “Come on man this couldn’t have been you.” Sam pulled a gas station receipt out of his pocket.

They drove to the station questioning the clerk who was unbelievably mad to see Sam. Dean forced Sam to go wait in the car. As he questioned the guy. Found out his brother had stolen the cigarettes after trying to hit the guy over the head with a bottle. This information wasn’t cheap. Dean bribed the guy with 40 dollars just to keep him from calling the police. They drove off into the direction the guy said Sam left. North on 71, straight out of town. They drove until dark. “What’s going on with you Sam? The smoking? Throwing bottles at people? That sounds more like me than you.” Dean said. Sam looked out the window. “Hey turn down that road!” Dean hesitated. “I don’t know how I know I just do.” The impala turned down the road. What they found wasn’t good. The house they pulled up to was broken into. The front window broken, alarm systems cord cut. Inside there were signs of a great struggle. Broken glass and furniture littered the place. There was a bedroom in the back turned into an office. A dead body on the floor. Dean turned it over as Sam cringed.

  
The man was bloody, his throat had been slit. “Dean I did this.” Sam’s voice was deep with sorrow. “We don’t know that.” Dean stated. “What else do you need Dean?” They found a colset full of weapons and occult paraphernalia, as well as a hidden camera. They watched the footage on the man’s computer. Watched as Sam brutally beat the man, slitting his throat slowly. As if savoring it. Dean watched in shock. Sam remained silent. “You had to have a reason. Wipe your prints. Then we go.” He smashed the computer beyond repair. Taking the cameras SD card with him.

  
Back at the hotel Dean tried to push it all away. “Lets get some sleep then leave this place in the rearview mirror.” Sam turned to him. “Dean I killed that man.” Dean stood in front of him. “I’ve been having these feelings the past few weeks.” Dean questioned. “What feelings?” Sam sighed. “Rejection…rage. Every day it just gets worse.” Dean placed a hand on his shoulder. “You never told me this.” Sam looked at him. “How could I…I’ve been trying to help you with your shit. I’ve been reaching out to you…but you push me away. Dean you have to…you promised.” He pulled his gun from the waist band of his jeans, placing it in Dean’s palm. “I don’t want to hurt anybody else. I’m turning into what the yellow eyed demon wants me to be. Dean you have to stop me.” Dean tossed the gun away. “I can’t…I’d rather die.” He walked away, turning his back on Sam. Sam picked up the gun. “No…you’ll live.” Dean turned, moving to talk Sam down from it. “You’ll live to regret this.” Sam bashed the butt of the gun against Dean’s temple. Hitting him so hard he spun around falling onto the floor face down with a loud thud. Sam walked out the door with out a look back. Dean woke the next day to the manager beating on the door telling him it was past check out.

Dean payed the sleazy guy to let him use his computer. He turned the GPS on Sam’s phone on. Tracing him to Duluth Minnesota. Dean knew what he was after. Ellen had mentioned Jo going off on her own after an argument they had. She was working a local bar there.

Sam walked into the quiet bar, watching Jo as she cleaned empty bottles from the counter. “Sorry we're closing up.” She said without turning around. “How bout one for the road then.” Sam said. She met his eyes. “Well you’re about the last person I expected to see. Where’s Dean?” Sam approached her like a wolf stalking it’s prey. “He couldn’t make it. So can I get a beer?” she slid him a cold one. “So what are you doing here Sam? We aren’t exactly the best of friends you and I.” Sam smiled. “Yeah cause you want to fuck my brother.” He took his jacket off placing it on the counter. She noticed a burn mark on his arm in a sort of ‘Q' shape. “Looks like it hurts.” He ignored her. “You know Dean doesn’t like girls…like you. He kinda thinks you’re a school girl. You know? Can’t handle what he likes.” She leaned against the bar, glaring at him in agitation. “And what does he like?” Sam perked up, the gleam in his eye wicked. “Rough sex.” She looked shocked by his bluntness. “So rough it almost hurts you. What can I say…the man’s got anger issues.” She scoffed at him. “Why are you telling me this?” he placed a hand over hers. “I could be more to you Jo.” She tried to pull her hand away. But he gripped her tight. A darkness in his eyes. “Maybe you should leave Sam.” He rose from his stool. “Okay.” He turned as if to walk away. Instead he grabbed her. She struggled in his arms. He squeezed her tight to his body. Gripping her hair and snapping her head back. Nuzzling into her throat. He pulled her hair, biting her painfully.

  
“This is how Dean likes it.” She sobbed as he spun her around, pushing her into the bar. “Sam no please! Sam please stop.” She begged him. He held her wrists tightly in front of her. So tight she would bruise. “See Jo he forces you down like this. But he doesn’t take you yet. He waits til you beg for it.” He chuckled wickedly, stroking her hair. “He touches you, bites you. He's the master of foreplay. He wants you to beg you see? Needs you to beg for his big hot throbbing cock inside you. He waits for it patiently. Mmm then when you do…he fucks you til he breaks you. Hour after hour he pounds you until he destroys you, leaving you a whimpering cum covered mess.” She struggled against him as he held her down. “You’re lying.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I should know…I’m his favorite broken toy.” He slammed her head into the bar. Knocking her out.

  
When she came too she was tied to the support beam in the center of the bar. Sam was sitting on a chair in front of her holding a hunting knife. “You’re not Sam.” He smiled at her. “Don’t be so sure about that. So, still wanna fuck my brother?” He cooed. She glared at him. “What? Did finding out he’s an incestuous brother fucking sadist turn you off?” She wouldn’t look at him. “You’re a liar.” He leaned in close to her face. “Oh sweetie no. Dean just doesn’t want you to know what a freak he is. Doesn’t want you to judge him since he’s been fucking me raw for years. See Dean he's…well it’s truly a work of art. Or at least what I did to his back is. See remember the whole whimpering cum covered mess thing. Well that’s not the end you see. You’re lying there, covered in your own sticky cum. But he’s not done yet. He keeps going. Your raw, exhausted. And he’s still fucking you. I can’t tell you how many times he’s filled me with his cum a few times and still has a stiffy. He just fucks his cum deeper into you. Man is it hot in here or is it just me. ” The door burst open. Dean ran in, his colt 1911 aimed at Sam.

  
Sam brought his blade to Jo's throat. “I begged you to stop me Dean!” Dean hesitated, his finger on the trigger. “Sammy put the knife down damn it!” Sam raged. “I told you I can’t fight it! My head feels like it’s on fire! Kill me Dean! Or I’m gonna kill her.” Dean’s eyes were full of sadness. “No Baby boy come on.” Sam stepped up behind him. Dean threw liquid from his flask onto Sam. It steamed as if boiling on contact. Sam screamed in pain, turning to meet Dean with black eyes. “That’s holy water you demonic son of a bitch!” The demon turned tail, jumping out the window. Dean cut the ropes holding Jo, following it. He was halfway out the window when she called out to him. “He was possesed?” He turned to meet her eyes, jumping out after the thing inside his brother. “DEAN!” She screamed at his back.

  
Dean chased the beast into a nearby boat house. He stalked it with caution. It was hiding. He had to draw it out. “So who are you?” he called out, hiding behind boxes stacked in the center of the room. “I have many names.” A sound from his right. No a distraction. Footsteps were heard moving towards the back door. Dean moved in. Hiding again when the steps stopped. “Should have seen your face when you thought Sam killed that guy. It was pathetic. You’re gonna die Dean. You and every other hunter I can find.” Dean heard the backdoor open. Saw Sam’s shadow as it slipped out. He followed it out, standing on the docks edge. Sam was nowhere. A gunshot echoed, followed by pain. Dean tumbled into the water.

  
Jo walked around the dock, calling Dean's phone. She heard it ringing faintly looking down to find his soaked body laying lifeless on the boat ramp. She ran down calling his name. He groaned weakly. She helped him to his feet. “Where’s sam?” He grunted out, gripping his shoulder. He stumbled, but she managed to keep him up, taking him back to the bar. "Take your shirt off. We gotta get that bullet out." Jo said. He pulled his tee shirt over his head. Exposing his scarred back to her. Long lines where nails had permanently damage the skin. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "What? Bullet go clean through?" She shook her head. "No it's just....your back. How did that happen?" He smirked at her. "Long story."  He moaned and grunted loudly as she dug tweezers into his shoulder “Unngh! God! You’re a fucking butcher.” She dug them in deeper. “Don’t be a baby, alright got it!” She dropped the bullet in a shot glass. He chugged a bottle of whiskey. “Alright we're done.” He tried to stand. She forced him back down. “Let me patch you up. How did you know he was possessed?” he shook his head. “I didn’t….just knew it couldn’t have been him.” She taped a gauze over the wound. “Dean…I know demons lie. But do they ever tell the truth too?” He chugged more whiskey. “Uh…yeah…sometimes if they know it’ll mess with your head. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Do you know where he’s gone?” Dean placed the bottle back down. “Yeah, South Dakota.” They stood from the table. “Ok let’s go.” He laughed. “You try to follow me and I’ll tie you right back to that post. This is my fight, im not getting your blood on my hands.” He grabbed his jacket, walking away from her. “Wait!” He turned as she tossed him a bottle of pain pills. “Those will help with the pain.” He noticed it. She was looking at him differently then the last time. What changed? “Jo….we ok?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah sure Dean.” He eyed her suspiciously. “Ok…thanks. I’ll call you later.” He walked out the door. “No you wont.” She said to no one.

Dean parked the stolen car in front of bobby's. The impala was already there. He burst through the door to find that Bobby already had the thing knocked out tied to a chair under a devil’s trap. Dean smacked it to wake it up. It smirked at him. “Dean, back from the dead. Like a cockroach.” Dean smiled. How bout I smack that smartass right out if your mouth?” It laughed. “Oooo…Sammy likes.” Dean glared. “Bobby!” Bobby began the rite of exorcism. The demon twitched in pain. Laughing out loud with a dark wickedness. It stared at Dean with a smirk. “Oops. Doesn’t seem to be working.” It started chanting in latin. The room shook and the lights flickered. “This isn’t right Bobby!” Bobby gripped Sam’s arm, noticing the burn. “Shit! It’s a binding spell. It’s locked itself inside Sam.” The demon roared as it finished it’s verse. The ceiling cracked, breaking the trap. It snapped it’s ropes. Flicking a finger to send Dean and Bobby flying into a wall. It’s focus was on Dean. It punched him in the jaw. He spat out blood. “Dean see hell is like…well….its hell. And you sent me back there.” He sneered at it. “Meg.” It smiled sweetly. “No, I’m Sam now.” It pushed Sam’s finger into the bullet wound in Dean’s shoulder. He screamed in agony.

“I just knew I was gonna get out one day and torture you nice and slow. By the way. I told your little girlfriend all bout how you fuck the breaks off little Sammy raw dog style.” It twisted Sam’s thumb inside Dean’s wound. “She can't believe her charming white knight Deano is a brother fucking sex freak. Well….was, past tense. Been about 3 months now isn’t it? You’re worthless Dean. Empty. I know how you look in the mirror and hate what you see.” It reared back to hit him again. Bobby grabbed Sam’s arm, placing a hot fireplace poker against the binding symbol. It screamed, black smoke bursting out of Sam’s mouth, flying off through the fireplace out of the house into the night.

  
Sam looked around in confusion. “Did I miss anything?” Dean gripped him by his shirt, smashing their lips together in a fierce passionate kiss. Bobby looked around the room. Sam moaned into his mouth. Dean let go, falling over with a groan, clutching his shoulder.

  
They sat at the kitchen table as Bobby properly treated Dean’s wound. Once he was done and pretty high off pain killers he locked eyes with Sam. He stood taking Sam's hand, leading him up the stairs. “Dean where are we going?” Sam asked. “To our room. Gonna make you mine again Sammy.” He kicked the door closed behind them. He shoved Sam back onto the bed, climbing on top of him. “Baby boy, I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never had it before.” Sam smiled up at him. Love in his eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Lots of smut. Sam has a vision.

[](https://ibb.co/kZTDfo)

They had stayed at Bobby’s for the duration of time it took for Dean’s shoulder to heal. Dean’s 27th birthday had come and gone. Bobby and Sam taking him out to a nice steak house. He pounded shots of whiskey with Bobby while Sam cut his steak into bite size pieces. Cursing the sling Sam refused to let him out of the house without wearing. “Sam cut it out. It's embarrassing. I can do it myself.” Sam laughed, shaking Dean's hand away as he tried to stop him. “Let me do this one thing. And later you can do anything you want.” Dean was deep in thought, a sensually wicked smirk settling on his face. “I saw this porno once. Something called kitty play.” Bobby slammed his shot glass down on the table. “Ok that’s enough of that.” He said loudly, cutting Dean off before he could explain it. Sam smiled. “Maybe when you’re shoulders better. Ok?” Dean huffed. “Fine but I want ears and a tail. The whole thing.” Things were returning to normal. Everything except their sex life.

Dean’s shoulder had been effecting his performance. The few times they had sex Dean would lay back while Sam rode him to completion. When Sam would come down from the spell of multiple orgasms, to exhausted to continue so Dean could finish. He'd meet frustrated green eyes. There were times he knew Dean was left unsatisfied because he couldn’t go all out. They’d tried doggie style once which seemed to be working. That is until Dean lost himself in pleasure, gripping Sam’s hips tightly to force his body to remain still so Dean could ram into him savagely. The action of tensing his muscles sent a wave of agony into the wound, causing him to almost immediately go flaccid. He’d raged, punching a hole in the wall as he screamed, “Goddamn it. That fucking bitch did more damage then the bullet. Digging around like carving a turkey. GODDAMN BUTCHER!” Sam had tried sucking him off to calm him down, bring him back into it. His shoulder throbbed, flames of pain nipping at him. But he just wouldn't get hard again. Dean would assure him that he was happy as long as Sam got off. These were the only times Sam felt sadness. He couldn’t take the pain away. The only cure was time.

Sam was fucking beaming with joy. Dean would hold him at night. Wake him with sweet tender kisses in the morning. They would lounge around the living room watching movies. Play cards with Bobby. Eat meals together like a family. It was peaceful. Yet deep in his bones he knew something was still off. The darkness that had grew inside his brother after John passed still lurked beneath the skin. Dean drank to much. He’d lash out at small tasks he couldn’t complete without both arms.

One day Dean had tried to put his own shirt on. As he lifted his arm to put it through the opening he screamed in pain. Threw the clothing across the floor and set about launching everything he could pick up, breaking some furniture in the process. Until Bobby burst into the room, smacking him up side the head. “Break some more of my stuff you little shit stain!” He yelled before walking out mumbling, “Idjit.” Sam fell to his knees in front of him, allowing him to take his anger out on him. Dean fucking his face like a thing that needed to be punished.

Bobby sat in his recliner, reading a book. The boys lay sprawled out on the couch together, a mess of tangled limbs. Sam had covered them with a blanket as he lay down sprawled out on top of Dean. His head resting on his big brother's chest, listening to his heart beat. Dean’s fingers running through his hair. The 1967 movie ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ play on the TV as they kissed. Their tongues exploring each other. Lips pressing together then parting with soft wet smacking sounds. “You two got a room to do that shit in. Can’t an old man read in his own living room with out listening to the two of you swapping spit?” Bobby said behind his book so they couldn’t see his smile. “Sorry Bobby.” They said in perfect unison. In the movie Clyde Barrow lay the beautiful Bonnie Parker down on a picnic blanket, kissing her passionately. “I’ll be Clyde, you be Bonnie.” Dean whispered in Sam’s ear. “Lets rob banks, have shoot outs with the cops, fight and fuck, until we die.” Sam held back a moan as Dean palmed his cotton clad cock underneath the blanket. “Or we could just go up stairs and I could fuck your brains out.” He pressed his palm hard against Sam’s growing length. “Hmm? Would you like that Sammy? Make you writhe beneath me?” He let out a quiet lustful laugh at the feeling of Sam, squirming against him.  
“Damn it Dean I can hear you! You’re a goddamned sex addict. Shut up and watch the movie or you two go to your room!” Bobby snapped at them. Dean laughed out loud. Throwing the blanket off them. He slapped Sam's ass. “You heard the man.” Sam jumped up from the couch with a yelp. “Sorry Bobby.” He rushed past, trying to keep Bobby from seeing how badly he was tenting his Stanford University sweats. Dean laughed out loud wickedly as Bobby turned the TV off, switching on the radio beside him turning the volume up to max. Zeppelin's ‘Ramble on’ blaring out of the speakers. Sam took the stairs two at a time at full speed. Dean slowly walking behind him, hands in his jeans pockets. Stalking his prey as he sang, twisting this lyrics. “Ramble on, And now’s the time, the time is now. To sing my song. I’m goin round the world, gotta fuck my boy! On my way, I’ve been this way ten years to the day.”

He paused before the top step, Sam was watching him. His lanky tall body pressed up against the bedroom door. Dean eyed him like a hungry predator. He pounced on the top step, hands coming out of his pockets, lifting up above his head to stretch. Showing off to Sam just how good his shoulder was feeling. Sam gasped in desperate anticipation. Dean chuckled. “Oh sweet Sammy I’m gonna fucking destroy you tonight.” He cracked his neck before resuming the hunt, closing the distance between them. He placed one palm flat against the door beside Sam’s head. The other gently caressing Sam’s cheek. “Mmm baby boy gonna wreck that pretty little hole.” Sam’s lips parted in a gasp. Dean slid two fingers past, thrusting them in and out as Sam wrapped his lips around them. A moan escaping his throat.

Dean shivered at the warm wetness. His hand slid down the door, down Sam’s side. Gripping his ass tightly before lifting him up off the ground. Sam wrapped his legs around Dean’s powerful hips. The fingers in Sam’s mouth worked him with skillful torture. Pressing against his tongue to slid to the back, slowly, sensually. “First I’m gonna eat you out. Make you sit on my face while I jerk you off til you cum. Make you suck me off while I tongue your fuck hole open. Then once you’re hard again I'm gonna suck you off while I finger fuck you. Til you cum again. And that’s just the beginning.” Sam groaned a needy cry as Dean pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop. “And there ain’t gonna be no begging me to stop, or finish. None of the ‘No Dean it's to much, stop, I can’t take it anymore’. Or else we start all over from the beginning. You understand me?”  
  
Sam nodded a yes. “I can’t hear you Winchester?” Dean commanded. Dark emeralds boring down into dewy hazel. “Yes. I under-.” Dean cut him off, crashing their lips together. Biting Sam’s bottom lip. “Yes what?” he demanded. “Yes sir?” Sam asked unsure. “Good boy. Time to give you your bone.” Dean’s hand turned the knob. He carried Sam inside, slamming the door shut with his foot. He gently sat Sam down at the foot of the bed. “Pull my cock out Sammy.” Sam’s fingers unhooked the belt only to fumble with the jeans button. “Now Winchester!” Dean barked. Sam snapped the button free, pulling the zipper down in haste. He reached into Dean’s boxer briefs, pulling the massive organ inside free. Dean fisted it in his hand, stroking it slowly. “Now strip.” Sam pulled his tee shirt off, dropping it to the floor. He slipped his sweat pants and boxers down in one swift motion. Stepping out of them, kicking them aside. “Very good. Now take care of me.” Dean lifted his arms so Sam could free him of his shirt. Once his chest was bare he returned to slowly stroking himself. He shoved the younger man to his knees. Sam pulled his brother's pants and underwear down as Dean stepped out of them. Placing a hand under Sam’s chin Dean smiled at him. “That’s my baby boy.” He moved to lay down on the bed. He beckoned his lover over with a finger. “Now, get the lube and come sit on big brother's face.” Sam padded across the floor stark naked to fish the bottle out of Dean’s duffle bag. He placed it on the bed within Dean’s reach. Moving so that he was straddling those broad shoulders. Dean gripped his thighs, jerking him back pulling him completely over his face. He tightly gripped Sam’s ass cheeks, spreading them with his fingertips, exposing Sam’s pink little hole.

He licked a single strip over it. Sam gasped, shivering from the sensation. Dean lapped at it like it was his last meal. He pushed his tongue against it, pulling it open just a little with his finger tips. He tortured Sam for what seemed like an eternity. Working the resisting muscle open. He reached around fisting his palm around Sam’s erection, pumping it slow and steady just as his tongue darted inside Sam. Lapping at the first ring of inner muscle. Sam moaned loudly leaning forward, doubling over. Dean smacked his ass cheek firmly as he thumbed the slit of Sam’s cock, playing with a pearl of precum. He wrapped his free hand around Sam’s stomach, forcing him back upright. “I didn’t say you could bend over. Straighten up Winchester.” Dean stated before he resumed his oral assault. Stabbing his tongue inside Sam’s entrance. Twirling it around inside as deep as he could. His hand pumping Sam vigorously.

The younger man began to moan wantonly, succumbing to the pressure of his approaching orgasm. “Spread your ass open for me baby boy.” Sam placed his hands on either side of his cheeks, pulling them apart. It was evil. Dean now had a free hand, which he quickly put to work playing with Sam’s balls. Rolling them back and forth with gentle squeezes in between rapid pumps of Sam’s weeping dick. All the while still fucking him with his mouth. Sam came hard, moaning like a wild thing. His seed spilling onto Dean’s stomach. Dean groaned, pushing Sam forward onto all fours. “Feel good Sammy?” Sam only whimpered in response. “Good. Now I believe you have a cock to suck.” Sam obeyed. Taking Dean to the root. Bobbing his head up and down while Dean squeezed lube out onto his fingers. He swirled the tip of his index finger around Sam’s entrance, slicking it up before slipping it in. He buried it deep. Pushing to the last knuckle. Pressing it against Sam’s prostate. Sam jerked with a yelp of pleasure. “Damn baby boy. I’m finally starting to get you opened up good. You can take a whole finger like it’s nothing again. Two years away from me ruined all my work before. But now my sweet Sammy…now your little fuck hole is almost stretched just right. Let’s see if you can take two with out having to stretch it first.” He pressed the second finger in. It glided in with no issue, joining the first. Dean scissored them, massaging Sam’s prostate. He shifted Sam up at a higher angle, deep throating Sam's cock. He pressed a third finger in. This one resisting. He worked it slowly, stretching pushing his finger in and out until it reached its goal.

Sam mewled helplessly, the sound vibrating on Dean inside his mouth. Dean groaned deep in his throat. Cumming hard in Sam’s mouth. Feeling it fill Sam’s cheeks before he swallowed it down, resuming his sucking. Dean fucked Sam with his fingers. Pushing them in and out with long steady strokes. While his tongue worked the underside of the cock in his mouth. Sam released Dean’s erection, panting yet crying out at the same time. Falling apart above Dean. He fisted the sheets helplessly. Cumming down Dean’s throat. Once he had swallowed every last drop he pulled Sam out of his mouth. Sam’s knees gave out. He collapsed on top of Dean. “Fuck yeah Sammy. Now let’s see how long it takes you to cum again from just my fingers in your ass.” Sam glanced over his shoulder at him, want in his eyes. “Want you to fuck me.” He panted, out of breath. Dean pressed his fingers in deep, wiggling them around. “What? Didn’t hear you?” Sam begged. “Please De. Need your cock inside me. Need your cum inside.” The older man seemed to be considering it. “You want big brother's cock up here instead.” He thrust his fingers in deep, causing Sam to whimper. “Please De.”

Dean’s eyes were mischievous as they watched his lover coming unglued. “Tell me what you want baby boy. How you want it.” Sam pleaded with him. “Want you to fuck me Dean. Hard. Don’t hold back.” Dean pulled his fingers out. He rolled Sam off of him, kneeling , facing the head of the bed, pouring lube into his hand, slicking himself up with it. He scooped Sam up into his arms. “Wrap your legs around my waist.” Sam obeyed. Dean shoved him against the headboard for support with a thud. He lifted Sam up at an angle where he could reach his entrance, sliding in to the hilt in one swift stroke. They moaned in unison, the sound bouncing off the walls like an echo. After giving Sam a minute to adjust to the sensation of being filled he began to move. Soft and slow at first, testing the angle for assurance that he wouldn’t hurt Sam. Gradually thrusting harder and harder, keeping the same slow rhythm until he was slamming into Sam. The pop of skin smacking against skin mixed with Sam’s moans filling the air around them. Sam clung to his back. Unable to do anything but hold on as Dean slipped his three wet fingers into his mouth. “Suck them clean Sammy. Wanna hear how good your ass tastes.” Sam lapped at them, releasing them only once the taste of lube meshed with himself was gone. “Tastes good.” Dean groaned. “Yeah you fucking love it don’t you.” Sam tilted his head back. “Yes sir. Fucking love it.” Dean smirked. “Maybe I should have you suck my cock clean when I finish fucking you.” Sam mewled. “Yes sir. Please.” It was to hot. Dean thrust into Sam like a man possessed. Pounding into him savagely. Sam pawed at his back, digging his nails into the flesh as he came all over their stomachs. Some of it landing on Dean's chin. He whimpered, shuttering against Dean who was drilling into him. Coming down, he opened his ecstasy glazed eyes. Lapping the cum up off Dean’s chin, pushing his tongue into Dean's mouth letting him taste. Dean shook, grunting as he came deep inside Sam.

They panted, foreheads pressed together. Covered in each other’s sweat and Sam’s cum. Dean rolled back off his knees. Resting on his back, still inside Sam. The movement pushing him impossibly deeper inside, causing both to moan. Sam’s head fell back as he pant, chest rising and falling from over exertion. Dean positioned Sam’s legs to support his weight on his knees, pressing his palm against Sam’s lower stomach. He pushed back with his hand. Moving Sam backwards until they formed an almost over done obtuse angle, his palm feeling around for something. Once he found what he was looking for he grinned wickedly. He glanced up to see Sam’s head tilted back. “Sam? Hey Sammy look at me.” Sam lolled his head forward in exhaustion, making eye contact. “Sammy can you hold this position? I’m going to hold your hips to help support you.” Dean trust up into him hard, testing it. Sam nodded a yes. “Good, now look at my hand.” Sam’s eyes drifted down to his lower stomach as Dean’s hand slid away, smearing cum in its wake, gripping his hips tight, holding him firmly in place.

There, just under his navel, was the imprint of Dean’s cock bulging up under the skin. Sam’s eyes grew wide. “I told you baby boy. I’m gonna fuck you in ways you’ve never been fucked before.” Dean lifted Sam up, moving him in circular motions as he brought him back down. Sam watched as the bulge would sink down as he was lifted up, almost disappearing then drag it’s way up under the skin as he was impaled back down onto it. Dean moved slowly at first. The two of them watching his dick move inside Sam, feeling it at the same time. Over and over again. “Touch it.” Dean commanded. Sam placed his hand over the bump as Dean started to fuck him down harder, faster onto it. “Oh god!” Sam cried out. He could feel Dean everywhere. Inside him, outside him. Deep in his gut. The head of Dean's dick just under the skin, pushing into his palm was an earth shattering feeling. His head falling back, mouth hanging open. His own erection bouncing up and down hitting the hand against his stomach. It was to much, he fell back onto his hands as he neared orgasm. Both of them yelling out, as the further back bend only made the bulge more visible. Dean moaned at the sight. He could see the shape of the head now, along with half the shaft. Sam came, cum spilling out onto both of them. He impaled Sam down onto him holding him there. Watching his own cock twitching inside Sam’s belly as he came in response, crying out an arcane guttural noise.

  
Sam rolled forward into a resting position. Dean was absolutely covered in his cum. It pooled on his abdomen, spider webbed across his chest up to his throat. Stopping just under his chiseled jawline. His eyes a deep sea of shimmering green. Sam shuddered at the sight, staring in awe. “God you’re so fucking hot.” He huffed out. His voice hoarse, breathy. Dean scooped him up, laying him onto his back. Thrusting lazily in and out of him. “Not as hot as you.” Sam was completely unhinged. Beyond exhausted as Dean wrapped Sam’s legs around him. There was no end in sight. Dean had cum so much it leaked out of Sam, squishing loudly as he thrust. Yet he was still rock hard. “Fucking power top.” Sam complained. Dean laughed as he picked up the pace. “Is that complaining I’m hearing? Do you want me to start all over again?” Sam kissed him roughly. “Fuck me til that glorious cock of yours goes soft inside me. Then fuck me some more.” Dean aimed to please. He took Sam again, fucking into him like it was his lifeline. Until Sam came again. Cum pouring off of them onto the sheets. Flipping Sam over onto his knees, fucking him once more from behind. Until Sam was so exhausted he couldn’t get hard again. A whimpering mess under his grip. He pulled out, gripping the base of his cock. “Come here, hurry.” Sam spun around. Dean shoved his cock past his lips, cumming inside his mouth. Gently thrusting into his mouth until he grew soft. Moaning, shivering from the after shocks.

Dean had to use two towels to clean the cum off them. He laid down on the bed pulling Sam close, kissing him so tenderly. Wrapping him in his arms. “I love you Sam.” Sam yawned loudly. “Love you too jerk.” Dean pulled the covers over them. “Bitch.”

Bobby sat up in his recliner as the morning sun peeked in through the windows. He hadn't dared to go upstairs to bed. He rose stretching with a yawn. It was quiet…very quiet. The clock on the DVD player read 7:15 am. The boys must still be asleep. The sound of Sam wailing out desperate moans from up stairs came flooding down into the room. Followed by the loud thump of a headboard banging repeatedly into the wall. “Balls!” He walked into the kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee from his auto perk coffee pot. “Jesus Sammy! Fuck yeah take it! Take it all!” Bobby cringed. “No Dean! Not your fingers too! No pull em out to much! UHHGNNAHH!” Bobby poured a few shots of whiskey in the cup. “Fuck no! They’re stayin in! Wanna feel my cock slid against em while I fuck the shit outta you. Think there's room for three? We gonna find out anyways. FUCK! So fuckin tight! Goddamn fucking hell yeah Sammy take that big fat cock! TAKE IT ALL! MMM, fuck yeah, you’re cumming everywhere! Ha! Bobby's gonna be pissed.” The banging noise growing louder as Dean let out a loud, “WOO!”. Bobby sighed. “Fuck my life.” He poured half the coffee out, topping the cup back off with more whiskey. “Lets see if you can take me and this pretty pink dildo of yours. Its not as big as me. I think it’ll fit.” Sam screamed. “No take it out! Pull it out! Ugh De so full! God Dean fuck me harder!” Bobby grabbed the bottle, taking it with him as he stepped away from the counter. “Fuck yeah Sammy you take both these cocks!” He walked out onto the front porch, sipping his coffee. “Fucking depraved little bastards.” God knows he loved his boys. But if they didn’t leave soon he’d start praying he'd go deaf.

Bobby placed his newspaper down on the table next to him, checking his watch. It was just past noon. The Winchester's stepped out the front door. Sam dressed in comfy sweat pants, an old tee-shirt, and fuzzy house slippers. Dean ready for the day in jeans and a V neck tee with his boots on. Their hair wet from a shower, coffee cups in hand. Sam limped over to the chair on the opposite side of the table beside Bobby. Dean following close behind, his hand against Sam’s back to catch him if his legs gave out. Dean tossed a pillow on the seat, helping Sam ease down into it. Sam blushed, glancing over at Bobby. “Morning.” He said shyly, sipping his coffee. “Dean…you’re gonna hurt that poor boy some day.” Bobby huffed out. “What? I bathed him, dressed him, and carried him down the stairs… he’s the one that wanted to walk once we got into the kitchen. I know what the hell aftercare is ok.” Dean defended.

“Its ok Bobby. I’m good, really.” Sam smiled sweetly at the old man. Bobby sighed. Dean smirked. “How’s the shoulder son? Good as new?” Dean flexed his arm, drinking his coffee. “Good. You got some fire wood to chop for me boy.” Dean looked over at his little brother. “You good baby boy? Need anything?” Sam shook his head no. Placing his coffee cup down on the table Dean bound over the porch rail. Making his way over to pull the axe from the chopping block. Bobby resumed reading his paper. Sam watching his brother bringing the blade down, splitting the logs in two. “Its good to see him like this again. And to see you two happy again.” Bobby stated, turning a page of his paper. “He’s not ok. Somethings wrong. Besides Dad. He won’t tell me what it is.” Bobby eyed Dean over his paper. “What do we know about it?”

“A while back we had a run in with a demon named Danni. She knew Dean. She said that yellow eyes feed me his blood the night mom died. That there were other kids too. Said that he would take all of us away, make us all kill each other, until only one of us was left. That Azazel wants me to free the devil and lead his army. And that when the time came Dean would know what to do. That he already found a way to do what he needed to do.” They watched Dean, bringing the axe down. “He knows something he’s not telling us. He knows more about what she said than you do that’s for sure.” Sam nodded in agreement. “She said that some demons can see the future. Awhile back he snuck out while I was asleep to exorcise a Crossroads Demon. It showed him something. Somehow. Something that scared him. I know it.” Bobby pulled a flask out of his chest pocket, taking a swig, passing it to Sam. Sam poured some into his coffee. “You gotta break him Sam. You’re the only one that can get it out of him.” Sam passed the flask back, taking a large gulp from his cup. “He’s different now that dad…He'll never tell me Bobby. He’ll be itching for a hunt soon. And he'll take it out on whatever creature he can. There’s a darkness in him. And it’s dangerous.” Dean’s jaw clinched taut as he swung the axe down a little harder than necessary. “He loves me Bobby. He truly does. But I’m not enough anymore. He’s harder to keep satisfied. There's only so much my body can take. He understands that. But when I need time off from distracting him...he needs to hurt the things he hunts. Make them feel what he feels. Needs to let the violence out…needs to kill.”

Dean stood up straight, wiping sweat from his brow. He stuck the axe back into the chopping block. He looked up at Sam, eyes so full of love. “SAM!!!!” He bolted towards the front porch. Diving to his knees in front of his brother, catching him just as Sam fell forward out of the chair, gripping his head in pain. Bobby rose in haste. “No! It’s a vision, don’t touch him. Sometimes he seizes.” He unbuckled his belt with expert skill, pulling it free from the belt loops in one swift motion. He folded it in half with his free hand and teeth. Slipping it between Sam’s lips holding it in place just as Sam started to spasm. “Come on Sammy, ride it out. You’ve taken worse than this.” For the first time Bobby noticed just how badly the belt was littered with teeth marks. “How often does this happen?” he asked. “Often…” Dean’s eyes never left Sam’s face as he laid him on the ground. Staying by his side until it was over.

 

* * *

A beautiful elegant woman with dark hair and glowing red eyes stood before Dean in the center of the Mississippi crossroads. “What do ya say Dean?” she purred at him. He stepped forward, closing the space between them, clutching her harshly by the shoulders, crashing his lips against hers. As if there wasn’t a single second of consideration about what he was doing. She placed her hands on either side of his face. Causing him to inhale sharply, face contorted in disgust. He shoved her away, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Hating it, the feel of her, the smell of her. Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight as she laughed. “Better hurry back to that brother of yours Dean. I’ll be seeing you…soon.”

* * *

 

“Dean…” It came out weak. Dean scooped him up into his arms, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He held his little brother against him. Until the shaking stopped. Until his breathing grew steady. “What'd you see?” Dean asked hesitantly. “Crossroads Demon…making a deal.” Dean’s jaw tensed in silent anger. He picked Sam up, softly setting him back down in the chair. “With who?” Sam’s eyes locked with his. Hesitating. “It…was you.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys argue about Dean's behavior. All hell breaks loose. Dean finds an ally in a place he'd never expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains canon compliant temporary character death. This is only for one chapter as it follows canon. It is pure plot forwarding. And I'm sorry. I'm going to go cry now.

The impala sped down a long stretch of dark highway. Heavy rain filled clouds blotting out the moon and stars. The only light coming from baby’s headlights, passing cars. Dean cringed at the music coming from Sam’s ipod over the speakers. He’d plugged an adapter into the cigarette lighter playing some pop shit he called ‘Halsey', declaring she was amazing. Sam was currently nuzzling the nape of his neck. Making soft little sounds reminiscent of a kitten’s mew. Shifting up slightly to nibble on Dean's ear. “Want you…make love to me De.”, he purred. “That what you want Sammy? Nice and slow?” Dean murmured, trying to keep his eyes on the road as Sam slightly turned his head, kissing him passionately. “Right here. Right now.” Was the only command he needed. Pulling over off the side of the road, turning all the lights off so baby would seem to be just a broken down car on the side of the road. They stepped out, Sam laying down in the back seat. Dean crawling in on top of him. Slowly making his way up Sam’s long torso as Zayn's ‘Pillow talk' came through the speakers like a siren’s song. Dean pulling their clothes off slowly, his lips working the skin revealed beneath as each article of Sam’s was removed.

He took Sam. Slow and soft. Never speeding up, never thrusting hard. Touching, feeling, bringing Sam slowly to the edge. Until the windows were so fogged nothing could be seen through them. The sound of cars whooshing by outside. The only discomfort being Dean’s hands grasping Sam’s thighs with unyielding firmness. Biting into the soft flesh, full hand print bruises left behind in their wake. The visible strain prompted from a struggle within himself to hold back his savage nature. The darkness growing within clawing inside, demanding he fuck violently. Sam knew. As if the vicious streak inside were an entity, peeking out through green eyes. Eyes that clinched tight, willing the beast down inside. Holding it back to love his Sammy.

This thing between them. The aggressive intimacy they shared had very few unspoken rules. Always give Sam proper care after extremely rough sessions. Always end every form of contact if Sam spoke the word ‘Kashmir’. Which had only ever happened once. And above all things always only proceed the way Sam asked for it, always. In all the years they shared this had built a sturdy bond of trust. Dean brought Sam over the edge, his orgasm spilling out onto his brother's belly as Dean continued his steady rhythm. Sam moaning so sweetly. A shiver running through his body from the sight of Sam’s ecstasy. The shadow within watching Sam watching it as Dean’s clinched muscles trembled. “I need it.” Dean erupted into movement. Pulling out rising up off the seat. Flipping Sam over, forcing him onto slightly bent knees, shoving his head down into the leather seat. Slamming himself back into Sam, right knee on the seat, left foot pressed to the floorboard for stability. Gripping a fist full of hair on the back of Sam’s head, the other hand sliding down the fog covered window as he rocked into Sam. His thrusts growing faster. “Dean! I said soft.” Sam protested. “I’ve tried to fight it….I…I can't.” A war was waging within the eldest Winchester.

He’d slow down, nice and soft. Then grunt like a rabid thing, hips snapping with a harshness. Bringing a hand under Sam’s hip to hold him in place, as he began leaning forward, pulling away slightly. “Don’t run from it…please Sammy I can't stop.” Sam laced his fingers with Dean’s against his under belly, a wordless acceptance. Taking Dean’s rough love until it was over. Dean spilling inside him, thick and hot. His hips and bottom covered in fingerprint and hand shaped bruises. His back baring purple and red bite marks. His own cum splattered on the leather of the back seat beneath him. Dean massaging his back lovingly. Kissing his neck gently. Rolling him over, holding him close. Feeding him water from a bottle he grabbed from the front seat. Tenderly showing love. A silent apology. They dressed in silence, moving to the front seat Sam turning the music off. The hum of the defrost clearing the fogged windshield. The empty blackness of night coming into view as Baby’s headlights shone. Dean pulling her off the shoulder, back onto the highway. “You will never do that again. Do you understand me?” Sam said firmly. “I told you Sammy…I’m not in control.”

“Dean I’d say we’re far beyond ‘not in control’ here! You’re on edge, you’re erratic. Except for when you’re hunting. Cause then you’re downright scary. I can’t do this Dean! I said no and you…What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dean white knuckled the steering wheel. “I fucking told you Sam! I can’t stop it, I just need it ok.” Sam stared out the window. “Pull over.” Dean ignored him. “Now! You’re doing 90, before you fucking kill us!” Dean pulled off to the shoulder, slamming the car in park. “Why do you need it?” Sam asked. His brother roared at him. “Because I fucking like it! Is that what you wanna hear? Huh?” he jerked Sam by the collar. Bringing his face close, his stare burning down into him. “Because I like fucking you til you’re raw and you ache. Because I get off on seeing you limp after I’ve beat the fuck out of your tight little ass. Because you deserve better! Because I’m a fucking monster Sam. The kind that let you watch me fuck a bus load of skanks from the time you were 14 because I really wanted to fuck you. The monster that made my brother suck my cock when you were 17. I was 21 years old Sam. That’s fucked!”

Sam was absolutely speechless. “Because I should have been the one to burn. And you should be with Jessica.” Dean released his grip, letting his brother slip softly back against the seat. “You’re the only family I have left. And the only person I’ve ever been in love with. Don’t you say that to me. If it’d been you on that ceiling…I'd have fucking killed myself. And stop pretending like I don’t like the way we fuck. Or do I need to carve up your back some more to remind you? You’re hurting Dean. You’re letting your anger get the best of you. And I can take it rough. But I have a limit, and you’re wanting it to often as a way to cope. I need a break from it some times. You don’t know what it’s like to be on the other end of you.” Dean spoke at almost a whisper as their eyes locked. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.” Sam sighed, pulling him into a tight hug. “I know.” Dean laughed. The sound of it unsure. An attempt to clear the air. “Remember that girl from your class. The red head.” Sam eyed him with hesitation. “Jennifer Hill?” Dean licked his lips. “Yeah the one with the dove tattoo on her shoulder. You had the biggest crush on her.”

  
The direction this conversation was going hit Sam. “You fucked her!” Dean laughed again, more confident this time. “Dude, that time at that basket ball game you made me take you too. I hate fucked her in the ass under the bleachers. Just because you asked her out and she laughed at you, told you she was eighteen and a senior. Said she wouldn’t be caught dead dating the loser freshman that lived in a motel.” Sam bellowed a laugh. “No? Perfect popular Jen? She let you butt fuck her?” They smiled at each other. “Yeah, I came on the back of her head, twice. Just so that prissy little bitch would have to walk out of there with dried jizz in her prissy princess hair and do her stupid cheerleader shit in front of all those people. Pretty sure the principal knew it wasn’t gel.” Sam crawled over to sit in Dean’s lap, his head hitting the roof of the impala. He leaned down biting Dean’s neck, his tongue trailing up, stopping at his ear as he whispered. “Her ass feel as good as mine?” Dean shivered. “Baby boy there’s not a goddamned thing anywhere that could feel better than inside you.” His hands gently caressed Sam’s backside. “Wanna go again? It’s nice and warm inside.” Sam ran his brother's fingers under the fabric of his shirt, across his stomach to his hip bone. “Your cums still dripping out. Your huge fucking cock can just slid right in, hot and sticky, like apple pie.” Dean groaned deep in his throat. “Fucking hell Sammy. Fuck yeah I do.”

Dean sat in the driver’s seat, head tilted back, breathing heavy. Sweat dripping onto his face from Sam’s hair. The younger Winchester lazily sliding himself up and down on his brother's cock. Cum leaking out of him, dripping down his balls, onto the seat. Pooling between the older man’s thighs. Dean's phone rang, AC/DC's Brian Johnson belting out ‘And I was shaking at the knees. Could I come again please?’ He leaned over fishing for it in the passenger seat as he stroked Sam’s weeping cock. “This is Dean.” He spoke into the mouthpiece, tilting his head to hold it in place with his shoulder, covering Sam’s whimpering mouth with his hand. “Hey Ellen what’s up? Ughnn…Got a case for us?” he breathed heavily into the phone as Sam continued to ride him. If she noticed the mid sentence moan she made no comment. “So this Ava girl went missing 5 months ago…” he paused, pulled the phone away for a moment covering the speaker to let out the words “God, fuck yeah.” Pulling the phone back to his shoulder. “After her fiancé was found ripped to shreds?” Sam’s interest peeked as he stopped his movements. Dean smacked his ass, silently mouthing out the words “Don’t you dare. Ride me!” Sam huffed as he resumed, listening in on the conversation. Dean inhaled sharply, biting his bottom lip. The whole thing was just to hot. He was so turned on any second he'd lose his mind. “Yeah I’m pretty sure it’s werewolves…Dean are you ok? You sound…strange.” Ellen questioned on the other end of the line. “Yeah I’m fine just uh…out of breath cause Sam decided we should get in some mmm…exercise. Ow!” Sam bit his hand. “Ok…? Well I just thought I’d see if you boys were interested in this one. I'm sending you a picture of her now.” Dean held back a loud moan as he felt Sam’s cum squirting out on his hand. Clamping his hand down harder over Sam’s lips, muffling his moans. “Yeah were on it. That it?” Dean said. “Yeah talk to you-.” Dean ended the call, cutting her short. Fucking into Sam until he came inside, hot and thick.

Rain poured from heavy clouds as the impala pulled in front of a diner. It was 5:00 am. They’d been driving all day and fucking all night. A ravenous sex induced hunger mixed with the need for sleep consuming them. “Hey don’t forget the extra onions this time.” Dean said, pulling a twenty from his wallet, holding it out. Sam took it with an annoyed look on his face. “Dude! I’m the one that has to ride in the car with your extra onions.” Dean gave his brother a shameless smile as Sam opened the car door, stepping out. He leaned over. “Hey see if they got any pie.” Sam gave him a look that said ‘Really?’ as he slammed the car door. “Bring me some pie!” He yelled out as he watched Sam walk towards the diner. He reached down, turning up the volume as Boston's ‘Long time’ blared through the speakers. He leaned back in the driver’s seat watching Sam stand in front of the register. His gaze drifted down to the radio as static started to drown out the music. He tapped the face plate as the static worsened. He looked around for anything suspicious.

As his gaze drifted back inside the diner Sam was gone. Along with everyone else inside. He got out of the car, running inside at full speed. When he opened the door he saw a man in a booth face down in a pool of his own blood. He pulled his Colt M1911A1 from the waist band of his jeans, aiming it low, trigger finger at the ready. “Sam?”, he called out. Stepping forward. As he rounded the counter two body’s lay dead in the corner. Throats slit open with gaping wounds. He slipped past them to open the back door. Calling out his brother's name once more. As he lifted his hand off the door handle he noticed a yellow powder sticking to his fingertips. “Sulfur.” He said to himself as he ran back out the front door. “Sammy?” he called again as he ran back to the impala. He looked around seeing nothing. No one. “Sam!”, he screamed into the blackness of night.

When Sam woke he was lying on the cold ground. He sat up to survey his surroundings. Nothing seems familiar, he had no idea where he was. It looked like a ghost town. Decrepit buildings long forgotten by society surrounded him. He walked around pulling his cell phone from his pocket, no service. He tried a few doors only to find them locked. Peeking into the windows but couldn’t see inside. As he stepped on the porch of one building he heard a floor board creek nearby. He picked a board with a nail up off of a window seal ready for anything.

  
He pressed his back to the corner of the building ready to take action. But just before he swung a young man with brown hair placed his hands up in defense, backing away. Sam lowered the board. “Who are you?” the boy looked at him in confusion. “My name’s Andy. Where are we?” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what do you remember?” Andy sighed. “Man I was smoking it up then there was this really weird smell.” Sam chimed in. “Like sulfur?” Andy looked surprised. “Yeah how’d you know?” They heard a scream in the distance. They ran over to the shed it was coming from. A woman was inside banging on the door. Sam picked up a rock, using it to break the lock on the door. A pretty brunette walked out. She looked familiar. Sam searched his memory. Bingo, she was the girl from the picture Ellen had texted to Dean. “Ava?” She was in tears. “Who are you?” “I’m Sam, have you been here this whole time?” she looked at him in confusion. “What whole time? I just woke up like half an hour ago.” Sam continued, “You’ve been here for 5 months.” She sobbed louder. “Oh my god my fiancé must be freaking out!” She noticed the other boy. He waved, “Hi I’m Andy. Also freaking out.” That’s when they heard another person calling out to them. They ran around a few buildings, following the sound. “Hello?”, Sam called out. A tough looking African American man in military camo stepped around a corner, followed by a mousy looking goth girl. “Are you guys alright?” Sam asked before adding, “I’m Sam. This is Andy and Ava.”

The solider replied with a hesitant nod. “I’m Jake, this is Lily.” Sam placed his hands in his coat pockets. “Let me guess. We’re all twenty three? And we all have abilities? Started a few months ago?” Jake looked at him. “I have visions. I see things before they happen.” Ava nodded her head. “Yeah me too.” Andy chimed in excitedly. “Yeah I can put thoughts into people’s heads. Like make them do stuff or see things. Made this one dick see gay porn all day.” He laughed awkwardly as he looked around at the other’s faces. They weren’t amused. Lily huffed in anger. “That’s great I'd kill for something like that. If I touch people their heart stops. I killed my girlfriend.” Sam gave her an apologetic look. “Look, like it or not we're all here so we have to deal with it.” Sam said. “Who brought us here?” Andy asked. “It’s less of a who and more of a what.” They all looked at him. “It’s uh…it’s a demon.” He said. Looking down at the ground.

  
He explained the whole story about yellow eyes, and what he had planned for them. The others were in shock. “So we are pawns in a demon war to start the apocalypse? That’s a bunch of bullshit man.” Jake stated, anger in his voice. “If we are all gathered here…it’s starting.” Jake walked off, determined to leave town. Thunder could be heard in the distance. He passed what seemed like an old school building. A little girl's face appeared in the window. He opened the door, walking in he could hear a young girl giggling. “Hello?” he called out, hearing a noise behind him he turned to see a girl with nails like needles. She advanced on him. Sam ran into the room, finding an iron fire poker he swung, black smoke burst out flying off from the room. “Just so you know. That was a demon.” Sam said. They stepped out to join the others. “I’m not sure but I think that thing was an Achiri, a demon that disguises itself as a little girl.” They walked around the town. Searching for anything that might help them figure out where they were. A well stood in the center of town. A tree much like the tree of life sculpted onto it. “Cold oak, North Dakota. A town so haunted all the residents fled.” Sam said.

  
The others looked around at each other. At Sam’s suggestion they searched the town. They had collected some salt from one of the houses, the iron poker, and a few other things. They met in front of one of the houses, huddling inside. As Sam did a head count his brow furrowed. Worry written on his face. Lily was missing. A girlish giggle was heard outside just before the sound of wood breaking. They ran out on the porch to see Lily hanging from a noose from a giant windmill. They hid inside the house. Pouring salt in the window sills and at the bottom of door frames. Standing with Andy in the adjoining room Sam pulled his phone out once again checking for service. “I’d give anything for a working phone…my brother…he’d know what to do.” Andy looked over at him. “You uh, you may not need one. I’ve never tried it long distance before but uh…Do you have anything of his on you?” Sam blushed. “Yeah uh. Me. Last thing before I got here he handed me something.” He said in an attempt to cover. “Ok.” Andy gripped Sam’s hand, his brow raising in curiosity as his eyes met Sam's. Apparently when Andy touched people he got flashes of things from their lives. He saw them inside the impala. Sam’s naked body gliding up and down in Dean’s lap. Gripping the fabric of his shirt. Dean's head tipped back, mouth open, panting. Flashes of skin rubbing skin. Static images of needy movement. “Um…that’s some heavy touching dude…don’t worry I won’t tell the others.” His words were true. Even if his face wore disgust.

Dean and Bobby stood at the hood of the impala. A map placed out on top of her. “This is it. All the demonic signs and omens over the past month.” Bobby said as he pointed to the map. It was blank. Void of his usual circled places and scribbled notes. Dean sighed. “There’s nothing. I mean how are we supposed to look for Sam what do we just close our eyes and point?” Dean’s phone rang. The sounds of ‘Thunderstruck’ taking him back to Sam riding him in the front seat the night before. He broke inside. He pulled it from his coat pocket. “Ash what you got?” The voice on the other end was nervous. Afraid. “Ok listen I got a big negatory on Sam.” “Well come on man you gotta have something!” Dean was erratic, his fidgeting out of control. He paced the side of the road. “Look man I got something. But I can’t talk on this line, get here. Make time.” Ash hung up the phone. He got into the impala. Baby speeding off towards the roadhouse. Bobby following close behind in his truck. The place was burned to ground. They searched the rubble. Ash was dead. Ellen was missing. Dean leaned against baby’s hood. “How the hell are we gonna find Sam?” he yelled out. “We'll find him.” Bobby said comfortingly. Dean placed his palm to his head. He groaned, shaking his head. “Ugh…fuckin headache. Must be the stress. Could of swore I saw something.” Bobby looked curious. “What like a vision? Like Sam gets?” Dean eyed him. “No man come on I'm not some psychic.” He doubled over falling to his knees. Clutching his head as his eyes rolled back. “Dean!” Bobby raced to his side. A grainy image of Sam standing in front of a large bell flashed before his eyes. “You with me?” he said as Dean seemed to be settling down. “Yeah, I saw him. I saw Sam.” Bobby perked up. “So it was a vision.” “Dean nodded, clutching his head. “God that was about as fun as being kicked in the jewels.” He joked. Inside he was screaming. This is what it had been like for Sam the past year. He would murder that yellow eyed bastard. “What did you see?” Bobby asked. “Uh a bell. Like a big bell with a tree on it.” Bobby smiled. “I know where Sam is.”

  
Sam and Jake were busy breaking prices of iron off an old wheel to use as weapons. Sam was hammering at it. Jake pulled a piece clean off like it were nothing. “I uh…I’m not super man or nothing. Kinda freaks me out.” He said. Sam nodded in understanding. “I appreciate what you’re doing. Keeping calm for them even though you’re totally freaked. I know the look.” Sam’s smile faded. “Want to know the truth? I got this brother, right? He’s always telling me he’s going to watch out for me. That everything’s going to be ok. Like I’ve been telling them. I don’t know if I believe it this time.” They were one in the same in that moment. Understanding that death was near. Both of them could be dead by dawn. “It only matters that they believe it.”

Later they were inside one of the houses. Pouring salt in the windows and doors. Sam was dozing off in a chair in the corner. That’s when it happened. A middle aged man with a wicked yellow toothed grin stepped into the room. His eyes glowing a sickening yellow. Sam screamed out for Jake to turn around. No one could hear him. “Come on Sam. I think it’s time we take a little walk.” He followed Azazel outside. “I’m gonna rip you to shreds I fucking swear! Where’s Dean?” Sam yelled at him. “Awww sweet Sammy. Don’t worry about you’re pitbull. I’m trying to help you. You’re my favorite. Trust me, in a moment you’ll be glad you aren’t in that house right now.” Sam’s face had never bore a look so dark and hateful. “You killed my parents. And Jessica.” Azazel sighed. “Poor sweet Jessica. You were all set to marry that girl. Pop out a couple kids. To bad she had to find out after she died that you cheated on her while she was pinned to that ceiling. Her fear smelled so sweet. Like honey. But I couldn’t let you. Needed you on the road…” He elbowed Sam in a knowing type of way. “With your brother.” He snapped his fingers as Sam lunged at him. Sam bolted awake to the sound of Jake calling out his name. He was standing outside in front of the house. Ava was missing. They searched the town. Leaving Andy behind incase she returned safe. Minutes later she walked into the living room with him. Dragging a finger to break the salt line on the window. As she pressed her fingers to her temples in concentration black smoke poured in through the window. He never saw it coming. The Achiri ripping his heart out before fading away. She smiled before screaming out loud. Sam burst into the room. “Ava what happened?” he searched the room. Stepping over Andy’s body with sadness in his eyes. Finding the salt line break. His sadness shifting to anger. “Ava. That line wasn’t broken when I left. What did you do?” She backed away from him.

“Are you saying that I did this?” He advanced on her. “You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for? Why?” She sighed. Her act wasn’t fooling him. “I’ve been here a long time Sam. And people just keep showing up. Special kids like us. I’m the undefeated heavy weight champ.” She placed her fingers to her temples just as Jake came up behind her. Snapping her neck. Letting her limp body fall to the floor. The two remaining not making eye contact. They stepped out side. Sam pleaded with Jake to leave with him. To hunt Azazel with him. It was a truce as they laid their weapons on the ground as a sign that they wouldn’t turn on each other. Sam Winchester’s down fall was that he always saw the good in everyone. Jake punched him, sending him flying back through a wooden fence. He kicked twice, hard into Jake’s calf as the man advanced on him. Tripping him up. Sam rose to his feet. A super human punch breaking his shoulder, the crunch of bone echoing in the night. But the Winchester's were no push overs. Sam’s legs were powerful from years of hunting, training, and sparing with Dean. Sam kicked Jake three times. The last one sending him hard to the ground. A loud thump sounding as his back hit. He picked up Jake’s iron rod slamming it into the side of his head as the man stood up sending him back down to the earth. He raised his arm, poised to strike. One strike and it would be over. Azazel would win. Sam softened. Dropping it to the ground. “SAM!” Dean’s voice echoed in the distance. He turned around. Walking away, clutching his broken arm as Dean and Bobby stepped out onto the road leading into the town.

“Sam!” Dean yelled out, dropping his flash light. “Dean!” Sam called back, his face warm with love. A man was running up behind Sam. Dean gasped in fear, he'd been here before. “SAM LOOK OUT! NO!”, he screamed at the top of his lungs. Running towards his brother as Jake stabbed Sam in the back with his own knife before running off into the night. Sam was in his arms just before he started to fall. They sank to the ground together. Bobby giving chase to Jake. “It’s ok Sammy you’re gonna be fine.” He placed his hand to the wound on Sam’s back, pulling up to see it covered in blood. “Hey it's not even that bad I'm gonna take care of you. That’s my job right? Take care of my pain in the ass little brother.” Sam chocked on his own blood, spitting it onto Dean’s shirt as he spoke. “De…love you.” It was weak the weakest thing the other man had ever heard. “Shh baby boy don’t talk ok. I’m gonna take care of you. I’m right here. Huh? Remember? Forever and always right?” Sam coughed a few more times. Blood pouring out of his mouth. “I got you. We’re gonna grow old together, right. Two old fucks in our rocking chairs. Right?” Sam’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body going limp in Dean’s arms. He pulled Sam away enough to look at his face. “Sammy!” he was gone. Dean pulled his brother back into his arms. “No no no!” his hand was on the back of Sam’s head, fingers running through his hair in a loving way. “Oh god…” his face distorted in pain. He rocked his brother in his arms. Tears pouring down his face.

Dean rocked Sam for well over an hour. His body starting to go cold. Dean’s face blank. Empty. Utterly consumed by earth shattering nothingness. The only sounds were falling rain over Dean’s repeated chanting of, “I love you.” Bobby walked out of the woods. He stepped up beside the boys, reaching out as if to place a hand on Sam's shoulder. “NO! Don’t touch him. He’s fine. Ok, he’s just sleeping.” Dean eyed Bobby like a rabid beast. Bobby fell to his knees, head hung down.

The old man had watched as the only living Winchester lay his brother's body down on the cold wet earth, cradling his head in his lap. Watched as the sun rose. As the earliest morning shadows cast themselves upon the world. Seen them move across the ground as time passed. As Dean ran his fingers through shaggy silken hair. Ran his thumb across pale lips. Caressed the skin of cheeks that had lost all color. Pressed the heat of his lips to cold unresponsive ones. Bobby listened as heart wrecked sobs filled the cold silent air with a sadness that would blot out the sun. Leaving the universe a cold dead thing. This was the force that was the Winchester's love. Pure and clean, even in death. The old man wiped tears from his eyes as he checked his watch. Just past five pm. The late winter sun would set soon. He leaned before his son. With cat like reflexes Dean pulled his Colt from behind his back, the shick-shick sound of the slide jamming one into the chamber echoing. One hand cradling Sam’s head, the other aiming between the old man’s eyes as he leaned over his brother, protectively. Possessively. All in one fluid swift motion. Like breathing. The look in his eyes that of a mother wolf shielding her pup. If looks could kill…well. “Don’t touch him.” Bobby took a step back. “I only meant…son…don’t you think he’d rest more comfortable inside?” An eternity passed before Dean lowered the gun, leaning back up to a kneeling position, brushing hair out of Sam’s eyes. Bobby moved to assist in picking the body up, jumping back with hands raised as he once again was staring down the barrel of a gun. “I said don’t touch him. Try it again and I’ll put you down.”

Dean leaned against the doorway of a bedroom in one of the old run down houses. He stared down at Sam’s body laying on a filthy old mattress. Which had long since gone stiff. The autolysis stage had begun. No doubt his internal organs had already begun to decompose. Bobby walked through the front door, holding a bucket of chicken. “Dean? Come on son I brought you this back.” Dean didn’t even turn. Couldn’t even blink. “No thanks, I’m fine.” Bobby watched his back. He was standing slump, his body language screaming agony. “You should eat something.” Dean’s voice was sharp, harsh. “I said I’m fine.” He slowly turned away from Sam. Standing next to Bobby. Opening a large bottle of whiskey, downing half. Bobby was quiet, he hesitated to speak. “Dean…I hate to bring this up. I really do. But it’s been two days. Don’t you think it’s time we…bury Sam?” Dean turned his head to face the old man, his eyes were that of a stone cold killer. “No.” Dean sat down on a chair at the table. “I want you to come with me son. I don’t think you should be alone. Something big is coming, end of the world big.” Dean slammed the bottle down onto the table, spilling some of the amber liquid out. “We’ll then let it end!” he screamed. Bobby was stunned, seeing the darkness Sam had spoke of consuming his surrogate son. ‘I said don’t touch him. Try it again and I'll put you down.’ With out Sam, all light had drained from Dean’s soul. “You don’t mean that.” Bobby spoke more to himself than his boy. Dean rose from the table so fast the chair fell, sliding across the floor. He was in Bobby’s face in an instant. That black energy peering out through his stormy green eyes. “You don’t think so? Huh? You don’t think I’ve given enough?” Bobby couldn’t look him in the eye.

Dean tipped his head towards Sam. “You don’t think I’ve paid enough? I’m done with all of it. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d get the hell out of here.” Bobby didn’t move. Dean shoved him back, yelling at him. “Go!” there was a struggle within him, fighting to keep control. “I’m sorry.” His eyes were searching for the proper emotion. Trying to fight feeling at all. His voice cracked, holding back from allowing tears to surface. “Please just go…just leave us alone.” Bobby sighed, walking away. You know where I’ll be.” Once alone, he let it go, unable to look at Sam as the tears broke free, falling warmly down his face.

Dean had moved a chair into the room so he could sit with Sam. He'd been there so long with out moving that night had fallen upon the earth. The black lonely night eating its way into him with out the warm felling of Sam’s long lanky arms wrapped around him. Tears streaming down his eyes as he spoke softly to his brother. His voice cracked with an ache so deep it was backbreaking. “I had one job….and I screwed it up…and for that I’m sorry.” He wiped the tears from his eyes. “Guess that’s just what I do…I let Dad down…I let you down…how am I supposed to live with that? Live with out you…”. The tears flowed more freely, his hands shaking. “What am I supposed to do Sammy?” He stood. His whole body shaking with rage and pain that needed to be released. He screamed at the top of his lungs. “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!” There it was. The thing he’d somehow forgotten until now. ‘ _When the time comes you’ll know what you have to do, you’ve already found the means to do so_.’ He rose from the chair. Once inside the impala he sped down the road. ‘ _It...was you_.’ Mississippi was just over 18 hours away.

Dean covered the small box he placed into the earth with dirt as he stood in the middle of a crossroads. The beautiful dark haired, red eyed woman appeared once again before him. But this time it wasn’t a game, no trap. “Oh Dean it’s so good to see you again.” She purred at him. His voice was deep, hatred laced the tip of his tongue. “My soul for Sammy’s life. And in ten years you can collect. Sam gets to live a long normal life. That’s the deal on the table. Take it or another demon will.” She raised a brow at him. “You must be joking.” He clenched his fist. “It’s the same deal you give everybody else.” “But why would I want to give you anything? You can keep your filthy soul it’s tarnished. Ruined by your indulgence of your years in the sin of carnal knowledge of your brother.” He gave her a look of pure disgust. “Five years or no deal.” She turned to walk away from him. “Make sure you bury Sam before he starts to stink.” He spun around facing her back. “Wait! What do I have to do?” She faced him once again. “Look I shouldn’t be doing this Azazel has ordered zero deals be made with a Winchester or else it’s death. I’ll give you a year. Sam gets a long normal life. But only if you promise to keep me safe from Azazel when the time comes. What do you say?” Dean didn’t even hesitate. He pressed his lips to hers, sealing the deal with a kiss. He broke away, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, spitting the taste of her out. “You know we’re not so different. You and I.” She eyed him with a look he couldn’t place. Something almost human. “I’m nothing like you. Filthy bitch.” Whatever the light in her eye was, it disappeared with his words. “It's Regina. And you’ll do well to remember that Winchester.” She watched his back as he walked away. Asking a Winchester for sanctuary? Unbelievable. However this single moment changed everything. She’d altered the future by giving him a year. He was only supposed to have a single night. A contract between hunter and demon. Shifting the path of the universe.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell has broken loose. Regina has made a deal with Dean that has consequences. Can the Winchester's stop Azazel before it's too late?

Sam Winchester gasped a deep breath. Air filling his lungs, as if for the first time. He shot bolt upright. Looking around at his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was Dean wasn’t there. Nothing looked familiar. A dull pain pulsed in the middle of his back. He stood up right. Walking over to a mirror hanging on the wall. Turning around he pulled his shirt up, a wound far into the healing process was growing fresh scar tissue in the center. A door creaked open. Eyes darting forward to meet his older brother. His handsome face marred by pain, sadness, and something else. Was it…relief? “Sammy?” Dean spoke softly. As if he were afraid that his brother would shatter like glass if to loud a noise were made. It didn’t last long, Dean’s arms were around his shoulders in an instant. Gripping him tight, squeezing. The dull pain turning sharp. “Ah! De.” Dean softened his grip to rid the pain yet held him for what seemed an eternity. “I’m sorry. I’m just happy to see you up and around baby boy, that’s all.” Dean urged him to sit down. “De, what happened to me?” Dean’s eyes averted. “Well…what do you remember?” Sam sighed. Trying to recall. “Well….I Remember you and Bobby. Then there was this pain. Like white hot. And then you were running at me…then nothing.” The older Winchester gave a relieved sigh. “Well that kid stabbed you in the back. And you lost a lot of blood. It was kinda touch and go for awhile.”

Sam’s face bore confusion. “De…you can’t patch up a wound that bad.” Dean’s response was to hasty. “Yeah, but Bobby could. Who was that kid anyways man?” Confusion shifted to anger. “His names Jake. Did you get him?” Dean shook his head no. “We gotta find him. I’m gonna fucking kill that son of a bitch.” Sam was moving to stand. Dean laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey easy Baby. You just woke up. Let’s get you something to eat. Huh? You hungry?” Something was up. Sam knew it. Sammy, yeah. Baby boy, ok. But never, not once had Dean ever called him Baby. He eyed his brother suspiciously. “Yeah. I’m starving.” He said as Dean ushered him to a table in the opposite room.

Sam explained everything that had happened before his family showed up. “That’s awful.” Dean said as he bit into his slice of pizza. “So now that yellow eyes has Jake, what’s he gonna do with him?” Sam sighed as his brother spoke with his mouth full. “I don’t know. But whatever it is we have to stop them.” Dean’s body language shifted from laid back to possessive protection. “No, we got time. You need your rest Sammy.” Sam eyed him. “No we don't. Dean, only one of us was supposed to make it out alive. If they think I’m dead we should make the jump on them now. We should call the roadhouse. See if they know what’s going on.” Sadness overtook Dean. “The roadhouse is gone…burned to the ground. Ash is dead. Probably Ellen. A lot of good hunters too.” They were quiet for a moment. Hunters knew what could happen. Every day you wake up could be the last. No matter how good you were. “Demons?” Sam asked, his voice cracking with emotion. “Yeah, we think so. Ash found something but we don’t know what it is. Bobby’s working on it now.” Sam moved to rise from his seat, hissing at the sting in his back. 

Dean was on him. Arms wrapped around him. Pressing his forehead to Sam's. “Stop damn it. Sam you almost died in there. What would I have...” His words trailed off. With eyes clinched tight he pressed his lips timidly to his brother's. Sam returned the kiss. The soft wet smacking sound of lips parting then meeting again. Sam inhaling deeply as Dean gently nibbled his bottom lip. Asking permission before sliding his tongue inside Sam’s mouth to explore. It wasn’t heated, nor passionate. Purely gentle, loving. Like a caress. Sam’s arms sliding around Dean’s shoulders. Dean placed on hand tenderly on Sam’s shoulder blade, the other running fingertips through his hair. “Baby please. Just let me take care of you. You need to rest.” Sam sighed, his eyes staring seriously into Dean's. “No, I’m sorry. Bobby’s only a few hours away.” Dean held Sam’s hands in his own. Squeezing them tight as the war raged inside him. He always gave Sam what he wanted, even if it wasn’t what was best for him. 

Bobby Singer answered the knock on his front door. What he saw took his breath away. Dean fidgeting, eyes full of shame. Sam smiling sweeter than sugar. The old man turned pale. As if he were staring at a ghost. “Hey Bobby.” Sam’s tenor as sweet as his smile. “Sam…it’s good to see you up and about.” Sam patted the old man’s shoulder as he walked in past him. “Yeah well, thanks for patching me up.” He didn’t see the way he knowingly stared at Dean. Didn’t see his brother's refusal to make eye contact with the old man as he slipped past, following Sam. Dean cleared his throat. “Well Sam’s better now. So we're back in it. What do you know?” They moved to the library, looking over Bobby’s work scattered across his desk. “We’ll we got omens. Cattle deaths, lightening storms, you name it. All over the place except here.” His finger tapped a place on the map. “Southern Wyoming. It’s like they’re surrounding it. Totally clean in this one area. I can’t figure it out. Sam why don’t you take a look at it. Maybe you’ll see something I missed. Come on Dean. I got some more books in the truck you can help me with.” Dean noticed that Sam was taking note of his fidgeting. He stood straight as a board, hands hanging by his sides. Placing a gentle peck on Sam’s cheek before following the old man out side.

Bobby walked past his truck. His shoulders stern with anger. He spun on Dean. “You stupid ass! What did you do?” Dean wouldn’t look at him. Bobby gripped him by his coat. “You made a deal didn't you! How long they give you?” “Bobby.” The old man shook him. “HOW LONG?” Defeated green eyes met his. “One year.” Bobby’s face seemed so much older. The creases in his skin more pronounced. “Damn it boy. I could throttle you.” Dean’s eyes lost the look of shame. “And send me down stairs ahead of schedule?” Bobby gripped his coat so tight his fists shook. “Are you screwed in the head?” Dean was so overcome with sadness. “I couldn’t let him die Bobby. He’s my brother. He’s everything.” Their eyes seemed to be searching each others souls. “How’s your brother gonna feel when he knows you’re going to hell?” Dean’s sadness was replaced by fear. “You can’t tell him. Bobby please. Please don’t tell him. He’s stronger than me. He can live with out me.” The old man looked as if he could cry. His hand tracing the outline of Dean’s jaw. As if trying to memorize the look of his son. 

A clanking sound was heard in the distance, followed by footsteps. Both hunters turned to high alert. They sprung into action. Crossing the yard. Leaning against one of the scrap cars. Dean could see a shadow moving in the reflection of a busted windshield. As the figure rounded the corner he launched himself forward. Gripping it by the shoulders. “Ellen?” She nodded, throwing herself into his arms. He hugged her back, Bobby patting her back. They brought her inside, sitting her down at the kitchen table. Bobby poured something from his flask into a shot glass before sliding it across the table to her. She drank the holy water, meeting him with a stern look. “Whiskey now. If you don’t mind.” She said. “Ellen how’d you get out?” Dean asked. “I wasn’t supposed to. But we ran out of pretzels…of all things. It was just dumb luck.” She downed the shot of whiskey Bobby slid to her. “Ash called, freaking out. Told me to look in the safe.” She sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. “A lot of good people died in there. I was only gone 15 minutes. Lucky me. I’m just glad Jo wasn’t there.” She pulled a map of Wyoming out of her pocket. Five X's drawn onto it. Bobby rose from the table, returning with a book. They waited until he spoke. “We’ll I’ll be damned. All these points are abandoned frontier churches. All mid 19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt.” Dean looked up at him. “The demon killing, gun making Samuel Colt?” Bobby looked surprised. “Yeah, how’d you know?” The Winchester's eyed each other. “That Demon Danni. Told us if Dean did what she wanted she’d bring us the gun made by Samuel Colt. Said it could kill anything.” Sam explained. Bobby continued. “He built private railway lines connecting the churches. It just happens to lay out like this.” He took a sharpie, drawing an upside down star connecting the five points on the map. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.” Said Dean. “It’s a devil’s trap. A 100 mile devil’s trap.” Said Sam, his eyes drifting back up to Dean’s. “That’s brilliant. Iron lines so demons can’t cross.” They smiled at each other. “All those omens Bobby found. They’re trying to get in.” Dean leaned over pointing to the center of the star. “I’ve been looking, there’s nothing there except an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle. What if Colt wasn’t trying to keep the demons out. What if he was trying to keep something in?” Sam’s smile broadened. His brother was so smart. Even if Dean himself didn’t think so. “What you think Bobby?” Sam said. “Well, this things powerful. No way a full blood demon gets across.” Sam’s face turned stern. Dean’s grew worrisome. “No. But I know who could.” Dean bolted upright in his chair. “Sam. A word.” 

The Winchester's stepped into the library. Leaving Bobby and Ellen in the kitchen. “Baby boy no. We can’t make a move yet. Sam you need rest. I haven’t slept in days. We go in hot now we're all dead.” Sam took Dean’s shaking hands in his. “De, we have to. We’re hunters. It’s part of the job. I can drive. You can get some sleep in the car. It’s going to be a few hours drive.” Dean groaned in aggravation. “Baby boy I can’t sleep knowing we're about to go up against the thing that killed Mom….the thing that killed Dad. Sammy I almost lost you. I can’t.” Sam kissed him, placing his hands against his chest. Letting Dean feel his heart beating beneath his breast. “I’m here De. We’re going to make it. All of us. And when it’s over. We can take a break. And I’ll rest. But until yellow eyes and that son of a bitch Jake are dead. I can’t rest.” Dean sighed in defeat. Stealing one last quiet kiss before letting Sam lead him back into the kitchen, their fingers laced together. Sam stopped, standing before the two at the table. Shifting his feet awkwardly as Dean’s arms snaked around his waist from behind. Fingers needing at Sam’s shirt in a ‘I need you so much’ kind of way. Dean's fingers fisting the fabric with a sense of longing. They were to close. It was to much open affection. Ellen, who had been leaning with her elbow on the table, chin supported by her hand. Moved to sit up straight eyeing them with confusion. “Yeah…um they’re close. They didn’t have anybody else much growing up.” Bobby stammered out the words. Covering for them as Dean snapped back, letting go. Bobby’s home had become a safe haven for them. Where they could be open. “Oh.” Ellen said, buying the cover story. Dean moved to stand beside Sam. Clearing his throat. “Ahmm, so uh…Sam wants to sneak attack now. Get what you need for the hunt and follow us there. Beware. Sam’s driving.” 

Ellen sat in the passenger seat of Bobby’s pick up truck, watching the impala speeding down the highway in front of them. “Those boys. They seem different since the last time I saw them.” The old man took a swing from his flask, passing it to her. “They were in a bit of a rough patch when you met them.” She watched as Dean lay down in the passenger seat, placing his head in Sam’s lap. “Joanna is gonna be so heart broken. She’s got it bad for Dean.” Bobby stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talkin about.” She smiled warmly. “They don’t need to know that you figured them out. They don’t think you’d understand.” He said. “If that’s what they need…then I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She watched as Sam’s arm moved to rub Dean’s back. “If they want me to know, they’ll tell me.” 

Jake Tally opened the gates to the cemetery, stepping inside. The crunch of dead grass seeming loud in the silence of night. He didn’t see Dean Winchester hiding behind a tall grave stone as he approached the crypt in the center. Didn’t notice Sam watching his brother's cold, hardened face. Nor did he see Bobby and Ellen hiding behind trees. All four hunters with gun in hand. Ready. Watching. Waiting. Hunters stalking their prey. “Howdy Jake!” Sam said as he stepped out. He turned to find all four closing in on him. Guns raised, fingers on triggers. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “Wait…you were dead. I killed you.” Sam scoffed at him. “Yeah? Well next time finish the job.” Jake’s voice boomed. “I did! Cut clean through your spinal cord.” Sam’s gaze drifted over to Dean. Bobby was staring at him. Dean wouldn’t look at him. That darkness oozing off the older Winchester like a black aura. Itching for the kill. Bobby was the first to speak. “Just take it real easy there son.” Jake’s eyes were the only part of him that moved towards the old man. “And if I don’t?” 

“Wait and see.” Sam’s call echoing in the night. Jake laughed, a deep mellow dark sound. Dean’s bright eyes turned a dark hunter green. “What you smiling at you little bitch?” Huh?” Jake turned his gaze to Ellen. “Hey lady, put your gun to your head.” His eyes flashed yellow just as her trembling hand moved the barrel of her gun to her temple. “Shoot him.” She said, voice trembling. He grinned wickedly. “You’ll be mopping up brain before you can pop one off Winchester. Now everybody put your guns down. Except you sweetheart.” Sam and Bobby dropped theirs to the ground. Dean hesitated, pulling the hammer back on his colt. “Come now. You don’t want the pretty ladies death on your hands do you?” Jake said. Dean raised his hands up in surrender. “Just so you know. You don’t need to worry bout my brother. Or my dad. Or even her. Keep your eye on the prize because I’ll be the one to end you. I’ma slide my dick down your throat and you’re gonna thank me for it you pussy ass coward. Hiding behind a girl.” His jaw clinched tight with hatred as he placed the colt on the ground. Jake smiled. He turned, rushing for the crypt. A hole could be seen in the center of a strange pentagram like symbol. He pulled an ancient looking colt from his coat, slamming it into the hole like a key, turning it. As the door creaked, as if gears were turning, a gun shot went off. Sam’s bullet landing in his back as the younger Winchester grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms behind his back. Holding him there. Dean slowly stepping in front of him. The bang of Ellen's going off just as Bobby tapped her hand, sending it off course to fire above her. Holding her tight. 

Dean smiled wickedly. Hunting knife in hand. Running his thumb across the edge of the blade as he faced the solider. “Look at me.” He said. Jake ignored him, attempting to struggle in Sam's grasp. “LOOK AT ME BITCH!” Dean commanded. Jake’s eyes locked with his. “Eye on the prize.”, he said. His gaze never leaving the boy's as he slid the blade into his stomach like cutting butter. Twisting the knife, causing the man to scream bloody murder. Sam eyed his brother over Jake’s shoulder. Seeing that blackness burst out as Dean slowly slide the blade up, gutting Jake. Pulling the blade out, sinking it back in, repeating. Splitting him open until his intestines spill out onto the ground. Green eyes like an endless empty void. Pearly white teeth clinched. Lip arched up into a snarl. A deep moan escaping his throat, heavy with a sickening sort of arousal. Sam counted nine stabs in total. “DEAN!” Sam’s voice snapped him out of it. The beast within sinking back down. Sam dropped the boy. Jake falling to the ground, gasping on his blood as he held what was left of his organs inside him. Sam stepped over him. Pulling the trigger. A single shot to the head. Ending his suffering. The Winchester's staring at each other. Sam’s face and teary hazel eyes baring fearful concern. Dean’s broad stiffened shoulders heaving as he panted. Eyes roaming Sam's body with a sensual hunger. A gaze between predator and prey. Seductively terrifying. Bobby and Ellen stepping past to the opening door. Bobby's eyes weary with shock at his boy's behavior.

The gears finished their movements. The door cracking. “Oh no.” Bobby said. “What is it?” Ellen asked. “It's hell. Take cover now!” he yelled as Dean pulled the colt from the key hole. They dove behind tombstones as the door burst open. Black smoke filling the night. Lightening flashed as thunder rolled. “What the fuck just happened?” Dean yelled. “That’s a devil’s gate. A damn door to hell.” Ellen replied. In the distance the sound of metal bending could be heard. “Come on we gotta shut that gate!” She screamed. Everyone except Dean running to the door, pushing against it. Trying against the wind of demons bursting out to close it. Dean held the colt revolver up, examining it. A pentacle carved into the hilt of it. The words ‘Non Timebo Mala’ engraved into the barrel. He popped open the cylinder. One in the chamber. The bullet had a pentagram carved into it. “I will fear no evil. If the demon gave this to Jake…maybe.” He closed the cylinder. It was locked and loaded. Thunder crashed and Dean knew someone was behind him. The hair on his neck stood on end. He turned aiming it at Azazel. It flew from his hand into the demon’s grip. “Boys shouldn’t play with Daddy's guns.” He said, flicking his finger to send Dean flying into a tombstone. His head hit it, a deep gash cutting into his hair line. Sam turned pushing against the door. Dean was on the ground, Azazel smiling at him as he stepped closer. “Dean!” Sam ran, leaving Bobby and Ellen to fight the door alone. Just as he reached Azazel he was sent flying back, pinned to a tree by an invisible force. “I’ll get to you in a minute champ. I’m proud. Knew you had it in ya!” Yellow eyes met Dean. Forcing him into a sitting position. Holding him there with his power. “Deano, I gotta thank you. See demons can’t resurrect someone unless a deal is made. I know red tape. But thanks to you Sammy's back in rotation. I was trying to keep you from making it but hey. Things played out different and it was a good move.” Dean smirked. “You call that a good deal?” Azazel laughed evilly. “Cheer up sport. Hmm. Least now I know I kept you around for a good reason. And here I was thinking I just needed you for the yummy bits of brother fucking so you could taint Sammy’s pure little soul. But hey. He practically served Jake up on a platter for you. That’s some dark sickness you got there Dean. You’ll do fine in the pit. You’re already half way as bad as me. The way you gut that boy like a pig. And you like it don’t you Dean?” Sam watched helplessly as his brother grit his teeth. Unable to hear what Azazel was saying. “Like the feeling of your knife sliding into the meat of something. The feel of blood pouring on your hand. All hot and wet. Feels better than sex don’t it boy? Better than little Sammy spilling his load all over you.” He aimed the colt at Dean's head. He spoke louder now. So Sam would hear. “Couldn’t have done it without you Dean. Without your pitiful self-loathing and your complete inability to live with out your cum bucket you call a brother. Yes, the pit will like you. We can string you up right next to Daddy. He’s there you know. Bad people go to hell Dean. And John Winchester was a bad man. Just like you. Leaving you boys alone. Beating you into a good little soldier. Disowning his boys when they needed him most.” 

He pulled the hammer back, cocking the gun. A shadowy figure stepped up behind him. Grabbing him before he could fire. Ripping the demon clean out of his vessel. It was John Winchester. Dean watched as his father’s spirit wrestled the beast. Holding it back long enough for him to reach the gun. John was thrown back. Black smoke funneling it’s way back into the body. Azazel’s yellow eyes shining bright in the blackness of night. Shocked at this turn of events. Dean pulled the trigger. The bullet sailing into Azazel’s shoulder. Flashes like lightening bursting through his body as the sound of the crypt gates being slammed shut echoed in the night. Azazel’s body falling to the ground. Dead. Three Winchester's staring at each other. Bobby and Ellen watching in silence. Sam ran to Dean's side, helping him up off the ground. “Dad?” They said in unison. John Winchester smiled at his boys. A single tear streaming down his ghostly face as he hugged his children. Accepting them. Loving them as he'd never done in life. They watched as he stepped back. Glowing bright, looking up to the sky. To the heavens. With a few static flashes he was gone. Everything was silent for a long moment. The boys holding each other. Easing the pain of learning that their father had gone to hell for his sins. “Hey hey, it’s better now. He’s out and in a better place.” Dean spoke quietly in a move to ease Sam’s guilt. Only time would tell if he would forgive himself for the last words he ever spoke to their father. Dean kicked the demon’s body as he walked past, hand in hand with Sam. “That was for our mom you son of a bitch.” Bobby and Ellen laughing behind them.

The boys helped the exhausted Ellen and Bobby into the pick up truck before moving to the impala. Sam leaned against the hood. “You know when Jake saw me…it was like he saw a ghost.” Dean scoffed, trying to ignore him. “He said he killed me.” Dean wouldn’t look at him. “Glad he was wrong” he said. Sam eyed him knowingly. “What happened Dean? After he stabbed me?” Dean gave him a sideways glance. “I already told you.” Sam sighed deeply. “My vision Dean. Did you sell your soul for me?” Dean wouldn’t answer him. Sam’s voice was breaking. The obvious strain of holding back tears. “How long did you get?” Dean’s head lolled slowly up. Looking at Sam shamefully. “One year.” Sam kissed him, feverishly. As if it were the last time he ever would. “You shouldn’t have done that. I don’t care what it takes De, I’ll get you out of this.” Dean moved to the trunk opening it to toss the colt inside. “Yeah well before all that you’re driving to a motel, I need sleep.” He smiled at his brother. “We got work to do.” He said before tossing Sam the keys and slamming it shut.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys take some time off to cope with Dean's deal. Boddy calls with a case. Regina makes a move to contact Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a prompt for the episode Red Sky At Morning from Vampirelady. It is my gift to her. However it is not a stand alone chapter. There is plot relevant to the entire story. Please enjoy!

[ ](https://ibb.co/dxe1NR)   
[](https://imgbb.com/)   


Soft moans slipped from panting mouths inside a dimly lit motel room. Sam rocked his hips to-and-fro on top of Dean. Hands splayed out on his brother's chest. Milking him for all he was worth until he could feel the cock inside him begin to soften. Until the vice like grip from hands on his hips released their hold to slide up his back. Sending electric signals of pleasurable comfort to the brain. He lifted himself up, letting the flaccid organ slip out of him to fall against Dean’s stomach with a wet plop. He collapsed on top of Dean, utterly exhausted. The pendant of his brother's necklace digging into his flesh as he traced the lines of the new tattoo on Dean's chest. “You’re healing well. It hasn’t scabbed at all.” He spoke softly as strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close.

Two weeks had passed since that night in the cemetery. Considering hundreds of demons had escaped through the gate things had been quiet. They’d had zero cases. Which pleased Sam completely. He had one year left to love Dean. He wasn’t going to waste a single moment. That is unless he could find a way to save him. The first move had been getting the anti-possession symbol tattooed on both of them. A matching set. No more playing puppet to demons. Dean’s first request on his bucket list had been to hold up somewhere and start a week long sex marathon. Demanding Sam be naked the entire time. Ready and willing at any moment. They’d had so much sex Dean's usual performance was down. Cumming once and going soft. Breaking for a few hours until one of them would rise to the occasion again. Plain vanilla flavor he’d call it. The older Winchester refused to allow any talk about finding a way to void the contract, the passing of time, zero mentions of hellhounds. But above all absolutely no comments about his sadistic behavior that had been exhibited when he killed Jake Tally. He’d claim he’d done nothing wrong. That killing a monster didn’t need to be justified. Yet something had changed inside him for the better. Easing Sam’s worry. He held Sam more often. Touched every square inch of skin on his body as if he’d never feel it again. Every time he looked at Sam’s face was as if he were seeing it for the first time. Eyes bright. As if glowing with innocence.

Dean’s tongue lapped up sweat from Sam’s neck, trailing up to his ear. Kissing him tenderly as his phone vibrated on the nightstand. Reaching his arm out, hand knocking over a bottle of lube, an empty glass, his keys falling to the floor before he found it. Pressing it to his ear as his tongue swiped a strip under Sam’s chin. “This is Dean.” His voice deep, full of bass. A dark and husky sound. Sam leaned over the bed to grab a towel from the floor. Cleaning his cum off their stomachs as he listened to “Mmhm.” Followed by “Yeah.” And lastly, “Got it.” The phone dropping to the floor forgotten as Sam was pulled back down and covers were pulled up over them. “Well Bobby has a case for us. Ellen’s still staying with him. Sounds like love is in the air.” Sam smiled at the idea of their surrogate father finding love again. He leaned over, turning the bedside lamp off, snuggling into the crook of Dean’s shoulder. A hand ghosting under his chin, gently tilting his head up. Soft lips brushing against his own as quiet smacking sounds filled the air. Until they drifted off to sleep.

Bobby had said a girl was found dead in her shower. Cause of death was drowning. Impossible. Which meant it was right up their alley. Currently they stood dressed in suits before an older woman holding a picture of her niece. “I don’t understand I already went over all this with the other detectives.” She said. Dean smiled. “Yes, right. But see we’re with the sheriff’s department. Different departments.” Sam nodded in agreement. “So Mrs. Case-.” She interrupted him. “Please, Ms. Case.” She eyed him hungrily. Sam’s face had ‘Eww!’ written all over it. Dean’s expression was surprised. “Ok…um, Ms. Case…um, you were the one that found your niece correct?” She nodded. “I came home. She was in the shower.” Dean’s bass boomed, distracting her prolonged gaze from his brother. “Drowned?” She scoffed. “So the coroner says. Now you tell me how someone can drown in the shower?” They gave her sympathetic looks. “Now how would you describe Sheila’s behavior in the days before her death? I mean did she seem frightened, maybe she said something strange?” Sam asked. She eyed them curiously. “Wait a minute… you’re working with Alex aren’t you?” Dean laid on all the charm. Boyishly smiling. “Yep. Absolutely.” He chuckled. “Alex and us. We’re like this.” He held two fingers up, crossing them. “Well why didn’t you say so? Alex has been such a comfort.” She moved to sit down on the couch. “But I thought the case was solved?” They looked at her sternly, all business. “We’ll um, no. Not yet. Anyways we were talking about your niece.” Sam persuaded her. “We’ll yes, Sheila said she saw something strange before she died. Said she saw a boat. Said one minute it was there, then it was gone. That it disappeared right before her eyes. Do you think it could be a ghost ship?” The boys glanced at each other. “Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship.” Sam nodded. “Could be.” She was eyeing him again. She raised a hand to his which were folded together at his waist line. “You let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.” Stroking his index finger in a way that remotely suggested a hand job. All humor left Dean’s face as he looked from her to his brother. Sam's hands snapped down to his sides. Face contorting in discomfort. “Any thing at all.” She said. Winking at him. He forced an awkward smile. As Dean cleared his throat.

They were walking down the street outside her estate. Expensive yachts docked behind them. Seagulls chirping. A light ocean breeze blowing. “What a crazy old broad.” Dean laughed. “Why because she believes in ghosts?” Sam asked. “Look at you sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound.” Dean jeered at him. “Bite me.” Sam felt a hand grip his arm, halting his stride as warm soft lips pressed against his ear. “Oh I’ll bite , and lick, and suck, and fuck the shit out of you.” Sam shivered, pushing Dean off him. Regaining his stride as deep laughter sounded behind him. “So, who’s this Alex? We got another player in town?” Sam shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Doesn’t change our job.” Dean let his shoulder brush against Sam’s as they walked. “Looked like a ghost ship right?” Sam smiled. These days they could hardly go a second with out some form of contact. “Yeah, not the first one sighted either. Every 37 years like clock work. Reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And with it comes a rash of dry-land drownings.” Dean’s face was all business as his hand found Sam's, lacing their fingers together. They ignored the homophobic stares of people around them. “So whatever it is it’s just getting started. What’s the lore?” he asked. “We’ll there’s apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The S.S. Violet, the flying Dutchman. Almost all of them are death omens.” They ignored the judgmental way a woman distracted her little boy from seeing their public display of affection. “So what you see it then a few hours later pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?” Dean said. “Pretty much. Next step we gotta I.D. the boat.” Sam replied. “Shouldn’t be too hard. I mean how many three-mast clippers have wrecked off the coast.” Sam smirked. “I checked that too, actually. Over 150.” The following exchange was Wow! Yeah. Crap! Mm-hmm. They walked up the stairs from the boardwalk to the meter where baby was parked. Where she should have been parked. She was gone.

Dean looked around. “This is where we parked the car right?” Sam was just as confused. “I thought so.” Dean began to fidget. “Where’s my car?” his breathing growing erratic as he looked around in slight panic. “Yes I fed the meter!” He barked as Sam asked him if he had. “Sam where’s my car?” He was yelling. “Somebody stole my car!” Sam reached out a hand as Dean paced around him. “Hey hey, calm down.” Dean was practically screaming, full blown panic. “I am calm! SOMEBODY STOLE MY CA-!” He was bent over holding his knees, hyperventilating. Sam rushed to his side, standing him upright, rubbing his back. A woman’s voice was heard. “The ’67 impala? Was that yours?” she said. Sam eyed her. “Who the fuck are you?” He asked. “I had that car towed.” Dean looked like he would snap. “Why?” She smiled. “It was in a tow away zone.” Dean sounded like a child protesting. “No it wasn’t!” She giggled. “We’ll it was when I finished with it.” Dean pawed at Sam’s chest helplessly. “You’re Alex. You’re working with that old lady.” Sam stared at her, still rubbing Dean’s back. “Its Bela. And Gert's a dear old friend.” She replied. “Yeah well what’s your angle? You a hunter?” Dean asked. “There’s no angle. I collect things. I sell things. Simple. There’s lots of lonely old women like Gert down the eastern coast.” She explained. “So you're a con artist. How do you sleep at night?” Sam asked. “In silk sheets, rolling naked in money.” She gave a slight curtsy like bow. “Really Sam? I’d expect the attitude from him, but you?” both Winchester's looked stunned. “How the fuck do you know who we are?” Dean said, moving to advance on her. Sam held him back. “In my line of business you hear story’s of the Winchester brothers. Although I must say as I’ve followed you…there’s a few bits that have been left out.” They grew stiff. She'd seen them holding hands. She knew they were brothers. Fuck. “Thanks for telling the old bag the case isn’t solved by the way. She’s stopped payment and is demanding real answers. Stay out of my way before you cause me more trouble. I’d get to that car if I were you. Before they find the arsenal in the trunk. Ciao.” She waved over her shoulder as she walked away from them. “Can I shoot her?” Dean asked. “Not in public.” Sam replied.

The night hadn’t gone well for them. Another man had died. They interviewed his brother Peter, to find that he too had seen the ship. They’d staked out his estate that night but failed to save him. The next morning they lounge around researching in an abandoned house they broke into. Old dirty furniture inside but at least the lights and water worked. Even if the water heater seemed to be on the frits. A knock sounded at the front door. Dean approached hesitantly. Opening the door of the peep-hole to find Bela on the other side. He sighed as he unlocked the dead bolt, opening it for her to stride in past him. “My god. Are you actually squatting?” she eyed the place judgingly. “How’d things go last night with Peter? Too busy making kissy faces to save the day Samuel?” Sam’s face was angry. Dean stood behind her. She took in the aggressive body language feeding off him. “Keep talking to my brother like that, I swear to god I’ll start swinging.” His threat was ominous. Sam watched him. There it was. Darkness peeking out from emerald eyes. “Look. I think the three of us should have a heart to heart.” Dean stepped past her, sitting next to Sam. Placing his colt on the table next to him. In plain sight. “Dean, please. I’m sorry about what I said before. I come bearing gifts.” Her British accent worked his nerves. “Such as?” Sam asked sarcastically.

She unzipped her clutch case, pulling a stack of papers clipped together from inside. “I’ve I.D.’d the ship. It’s the Espisito Santo. A merchant vessel. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard the ship and hanged at 37 years of age.” Sam looked at Dean as he spoke. “Which would explain the 37 year cycle.” She flipped through the papers. “Here’s a photo of him.” She handed it to Sam. “Isn’t that the customer we saw last night?” Dean said. “You saw him?” He wouldn’t look at her either. “Yeah except he was missing a hand.” She smiled. “The sailor was cremated but not before they cut off his right hand to make a hand of glory.” She stated. Dean chuckled. “A hand of glory? Think I got one of those the other night.” Sam gave him a stern look. “Dean the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It’s powerful.” Bela brushed her brown hair behind her ear. “So they say.” Dean chimed in. “We’ll that’s remains. We gotta find it.” Sam nodded in agreement. “But still none of this explains why he’s choosing his victims.” Bela scoffed. “Who cares. Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.” Dean eyed her. “I don’t understand why are you telling us all this?” She smiled. “Because I know where the hand is. It’s at the Sea Pines Museum. But I need your help.”

A few hours later Bela stood down stairs in the abandoned house dressed in an exquisite black number. A beautiful diamond necklace that must have cost a fortune, and heels so stunninly pointed they had to be torture devices for the feet. “What’s taking so long? Sam’s already half way there.” She called out to Dean pausing for a moment. “With his date.” His voice boomed from upstairs. “I’m so not ok with this!” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be jealous Deano. Men don't like it when ladies are clingy. Come down already.” As he descended the stair case her expression changed from aggravated to stunned. Dean Winchester was dressed to the nines in a tux she’d rented him that was more expensive then he could ever dream of. Pocket square, diamond cuff links, black leather shoes, bow tie. The works. His hair styled perfectly in place with a bit of pomade. His five o-clock shadow gone. He was devilishly handsome. “All right get it out. I look ridiculous.” He spoke the words as if he truly believed them. Her gaze stayed on him a bit to long. “Not exactly the word I'd use.” She said, the tip of her tongue darting out just slightly to sensually lick her perfectly painted red lips. “You know when this is over we should have really angry sex.” He gave her a puzzled then stunned look. “Eww.” He said. She smiled devilishly. Her eyes taking in the obvious bulge of his soft cock hanging to the left of his pants. “Aww come on, I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind sharing that monster you’re packing there stud.” He blushed, shifting on his feet. Placing his hands in his pockets to try hiding it. “Don’t objectify me…Let’s go.” He rushed past her. Feeling embarrassed knowing she was watching his ass as he walked out the door.

They walked into the party at the museum together. Bela’s arm linked with Dean’s, who’s hands were in his pockets. They stepped into the ballroom surrounded by uppity rich people. The kind that constantly held their noses in the air. Bela’s eyes on Dean. Emerald eyes searching the room for his brother. Sam stood next to Gertrude Case. Stiff as a board as she wrapped her veiny arms around his. “This’ll get their tongues wagging, eh my Adonis?” she said to him. Her face just a little to close to his ear. He sighed. “Just remember, we're here on business.” He reminded her. She grinned at him. “Ooo, but sometimes business can be pleasure.” She stroked a hand down his chest as he shivered in discomfort. He gave an awkward boyish laugh. He spotted Dean across the room as her hand stroked across his back. The older Winchester was at the bar with Bela. Sipping a bourbon on the rocks. The brown haired beauty standing to close. Eyeing him like a perfectly cooked steak. “You know I’m...could you excuse me for a moment?” He said with a nervous chuckle. He practically had to pry his arm away from her gasp. He crossed the ballroom. The bitter sting of jealousy coursing through him at the toothy grin Dean gave as Bela stroked his arm. Ever the charmer Dean was. His jaw twitching at how his older brother didn’t even notice him until he was right next to him. “Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain that pervy old bag? She’s handsy as fuck.” Bela smirked at him. Sipping her champagne. “As long as it takes.” The rumble of Dean’s deep bass drawing his angry expression into a soft gaze. “Look, there’s security everywhere. All right? Without Gert's invitation we wouldn’t even be here. So…” Sam snapped at him. Practically green with envy. Fueled by jealousy. “We can crash anything Dean.” The older man gave him a stern look. “Yeah I know but this is easier baby boy.”

“You know there are limits to what I’ll do right?” Sam said. “Aw, he’s playin hard to get. That’s cute.” Dean said with a small laugh. This was a bad time for his usual jeers at Sam. “Ok, you remember you said that.” Sam leaned in whispering into his brother's ear so only he could hear. “I’ll show you just how hard to get I can be. You asked for this.” All playfulness erased from Dean’s face as Bela pulled him away. Leaving Sam behind with the old woman closing in on him. Once in the hall way outside the ballroom they placed their drinks down observing the guards. “Private security?” she asked him in a hushed voice. “I don’t think so. Look at the way they’re standing. They’re pros.” He replied. “How do you suggest we get upstairs?” She asked. “I’m thinking.” He stated, watching the gaurds. “Don’t strain yourself. Interesting how the legend is so much more than the man. It’s a good thing you’re hung like a horse with a pretty face because there isn’t much else going for you.” The look he gave her was murderous. “I’ve had no complaints. You got any bright ideas I’m all ears...Bitch.” He said. The corner of her mouth rose into a half smirk. She gasped dramatically, letting her body fall, as if fainting. He caught her, playing along. “Honey? Honey are you alright?” he looked around. Feigning distress. A security guard approaching them to ask what the problem was. “My wife. She’s a lightweight. A little to much champagne. Is there somewhere I can lay her down?” The man hesitated a moment. “Follow me.” Dean smiled as he scooped her up, following the man upstairs. He led them to what seemed like an office with a couch. He thanked the man. Closing the door behind him. “Maybe you wanna let me in on the plan next time?” He scolded her as she sat up. “I didn’t want you thinking. You’re not good at it.” She said. He was speechless. Memories of John yelling, slamming his fist down into his face. ‘ _Dumbass! Why can’t you be smarter like your brother_?’ Her eyes ran down his body. “I’m sure what you lack in brains you make up for in…other ways.” He flipped her off. “Room 235. It’s in a glass case wired with an alarm. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” He mocked her as he walked out the door.

Sam was dancing with Gertrude. Trying to ignore the hungry way she looked at him. “Where’s Alex and your friend?” she asked him. “I’m uh, sure they’re entertaining themselves.” His voice was shaking. “Well I guess we’ll just have to entertain ourselves then.” She grabbed a handful of his ass. Squeezing the plump flesh of his cheeks. A sting from healing bruises from Dean's fingertips and bite marks making him yelp like a puppy that just got kicked. “Um… Ms. Case I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.” She almost purred. Laying her head against his chest. “You remind me of my late husband. He was shy too. Until we got below deck.” A hand ran down his stomach as she spoke. She grabbed him. A handful of soft cock. “WHOA!” He yelled out. That was it. He pushed her off gently. Running out of the room. In the hallway he pleaded with the guard. “Come on man. The bathroom line is a mile long. Can I just use one upstairs. I’ll come right back down.” The guy sighed. Tipping his head to signal it was ok to pass. He bound up the stairs before the old bag could see where he had taken off too. As he rounded the top of the stairs he ran smack into Dean.

“Damn Sammy where’s the fire?” Sam fisted Dean’s tux jacket. “Dude she grabbed my dick.” Dean pulled his gun from behind his waist. “Hell no! That’s it I’ma kill her.” Sam fumbled, pulling the colt from his brother's hands. “Dude no.” He reached around, tucking it back into the waist band of Dean’s pants. Dean pressed into him, causing him to whimper. He fisted Dean's tux jacket, pushing back slightly. Over sensitive from all the unwanted groping he’d dealt with to realize it was his brother doing the touching this time. “Aw no baby boy. Don’t pull away. That old bag got you feeling all dirty?” He pulled Sam’s body flush with his. “I can make it better for you. Send you back to her stinking of sweaty sex.” Sam was resisting, pushing at Deans shoulders. Whining as Dean ground their hips together. “Come on Sammy your not still mad at me are you? Let big brother make you feel good. Promise I wont stop til every inch of you smells like me.” Sam smiled against his throat. “Yeah, maybe if she smells you all over me she'll back off.” The older Winchester nipped his ear. “Thought you were playing hard to get?” Sam moaned. “Oh I still can. I can march right back down there, leaving you with blue balls.” Dean pulled his chin up to lock eyes with him. “The only thing you’re about to do is take this dick.” He slipped past Sam, hand brushing against his crotch as he walked down the hallway towards the door marked ‘Lavatory’. Sam holding him by the coat-tail as he blindly followed.

Dean’s hands were already groping him as the door opened. Pushing him inside, slamming it shut with his foot. Their hands undoing buttons of tux coats, letting them fall silently to the floor as Dean advanced on Sam. Pushing him back against the bathroom counter. Their tongues exploring each others mouth. Fingers opening each other’s shirt buttons with expert skill. Grazing the warm flesh of each other’s stomachs. Dean pulling Sam’s belt free, opening the fly of his slacks, reaching in to free Sam’s erection. He dropped to his knees on the cold tile floor. Placing sweet kisses on the tip of Sam’s head. Then moving lower licking his balls, moving up the bottom of his shaft slowly, teasing. Working his way up to the head, swirling around it, then closing his mouth around it. Sliding down, taking him to the root. Letting the organ slide down into his throat.

Sam moaned loudly, his head tipping back. A hand sliding to the back of Dean’s head. Holding him down on his cock. Feeling it pulsing in the tightness of his throat. Until Dean tapped his hip with two fingers. Allowing him to pull off, breathing hard. “You like that baby boy? My hot mouth swallowing your big cock?” Sam groaned. “God De. Fuck yeah.” Dean went back to the task at hand. His head bobbing up and down the length of Sam. One hand massaging his balls, the other pressing against Sam’s entrance, tracing little circles. It wasn’t long before Sam was panting. Biting his bottom lip until it was pink and swollen. All manner of high pitched moans coming from his open mouth. Every one of them some variation of his brother's name. “Mmm Dean…fuck De. Oh my god DEAN!” Dean pulled off for a moment to spit on his finger tips. Sam felt his toes curling as he picked up the pace. He tensed as Dean slipped his index finger inside him. He came hard. Dean swallowing his load. Continuing to suck him off until it was too much. Sam pushing him off. His breathing ragged. Eyes hungry for more. His clothes disheveled. Dean rose up to claim his mouth. “De…need you. Want you to fuck me.” Dean caressed his cheek. “I don’t have any lube baby boy. Don’t wanna hurt you.” Sam whined in protest. He palmed Dean through the fabric of his dress slacks. Causing the older man to groan deeply. “Fuck it these rich bitches gotta have something.” He opened the cabinet under the sink to find a basket with common bathroom items in it. Shuffling through it until he found a small bottle of baby oil. “Yahtzee!” He said, raising back up with the bottle in front of Sam’s face. Showing off his prize. Sam licked his lips. “Fuck me De. No fingers. Wanna feel myself stretched out by you. All 10 fucking inches of you.” Dean swatted the hand Sam raised up to pull him into a kiss. “Hey! It’s ten and a half. Thank you very much.” He said as his fist wrapped around Sam’s tie. He held onto it as he spun him around. Pressing a hand against Sam’s back, gently pushing him down to lay against the marble counter. Pushing his pants down to mid-thigh. Moving him so his hips were arched making his ass pop up at just the right angle. He pressed two fingertips against Sam’s hole. “Gotta get your tight little boy pussy all wet for me first baby boy.” Pulling it open just enough to squirt some of the oil inside. Then rubbing it around the outside. Placing the bottle on the counter as his clean hand undid his own belt, followed by his fly. The clinking sound of the buckle falling down making Sam giddy with anticipation. He poured a fair amount of the baby oil onto his rock hard shaft. Stroking it until it was well coated. Pressing the tip against Sam’s hole. “You ready for me Sammy?”

“God yes!” Sam pressed his forehead against the cold marble. “Uh-uh!” Dean’s voice was dark, lusty. “Look in the mirror. I want you to watch your face while I fuck you. Watch me while I fuck you.” Sam moaned a high pitched feral sound as he brought his arms up in front of him, tilting his head up, gazing at Dean’s smiling face in the mirror. Dean pressed into him, pushing past the first ring of muscle. Sam watched as his own mouth dropped open. Watched as a moan slipped out of his lips. Saw Dean’s lips part slightly in pleasure. Saw lusty emerald eyes fixed on needy hazel. Watched as the older man let out a deep groan as he slid in to the hilt. The muscles of Dean’s abs flexing as he placed one hand on Sam’s hip, the other wrapping the tie around his fist and pulling it. Not hard, just enough pressure to make it tight around his throat. Just the way Sam liked it. His open white button up shirt swaying as he started to move. Thrusting sure, hard, and deep. Sam was coming undone. His reflection so wanton, so shameless. Dean’s completely glossed, yet focused as he did what he was best at. The eldest Winchester was a fierce hunter. Maybe one of the best of his generation. But when it came to sex. He fucked like he invented the act. “God Sammy your loving it. So hot seeing your face while I fuck you. The way I see it.” He slammed into Sam over and over again. His eyes never breaking away from Sam’s. His hand moving from Sam’s hip to cover his mouth. Muffling the cries of ecstasy coming from his little brother. Sam shifted, bringing one hand down to stroke his own cock.

The door opened without a sound. “Are you in here my handsome Adonis?” Gertrude said as she peeked in. “Oh my god.” She blurted out. Their heads turning to look at her. “Dean!” Sam yelled out. Dean didn’t stop. He kept fucking Sam, gripping both of Sam’s hips. “Fuck off grandma he’s busy.” Dean bellowed. Sam blushed a terrible red. Yelping as Dean hit his prostate. Her face was pale. The door slammed shut so fast they could feel the wind off of it. Dean laughed out loud. Slapping Sam’s ass letting out a “Woo!”, as he thrust into Sam harder and faster. Grazing Sam’s prostate with each movement until Sam was cumming in his hand. “Yeah Sammy. Watch your face while you cum.” Sam looked into the mirror. He was panting, biting his lip. His cheeks flushed. The sounds coming out of him so slutty yet so pure at the same time. “Clean up Sammy. Want you to watch yourself eat your cum.” He raised his hand to his lips. Tongue lapping at his palm. Letting Dean see the milky seed on his tongue in the mirror before swallowing it. “Mmm, so good De.” With one last long stroke Dean was cumming deep inside him. His face in the mirror consumed with pleasure as his eyes shut tight. His mouth open, chest heaving, glistening with a thin layer of sweat. Thrusting into Sam until he was soft. His flaccid cock slipping out of him as Dean fell on his back. Kissing his neck. Whispering in his ear. “Fuck Sammy. That was awesome.” Sam was still coming down from the after shocks of orgasm when Dean sat up, tucking himself back into his pants. Buckling his belt. Dropping to the floor to lap up his cum that could be felt running down his inner thigh. “Don’t you look away Sammy. Want you to see yourself while I eat my cum out of your ass.” He writhed in the mirror as his hole was pried open so a long hot tongue could slip inside him. Unable to do anything other than feel the overwhelming pleasure that was Dean. Until it was over. Until he was left a panting, sweating, drooling heap of over worked nerve endings. Spent and drained in the most delicious of ways. Once he came down Sam stood upright, pulling his pants up. “De she saw us.” Dean laughed while buttoning his shirt. “She’s drunk as a skunk. She probably thinks she imagined the whole thing.” They dressed in haste. Sharing a few feverish kisses before Sam slipped out of the room. Dean waited a few minutes to make sure they wouldn’t be seen leaving together before stepping out himself.

Sam stepped back into the ball room, adjusting his tie so it was perfectly in place. Gertrude was sitting alone at the bar. He grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray, sliding onto the seat next to her. She smiled knowingly at him. “Darling, why didn’t you just tell me? This whole time I’ve been barking up the wrong tree and we could have been playing the field together.” Sam breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d want to be my friend anymore if you knew.” He handed her the flute, a giddy expression crossing her features as she sipped it. “Oh stop it. Fags are wonderful. They have exceptional tastes.” He forced a laugh, thank God she didn’t know they were brothers.

Back upstairs Dean was crouched down before the glass case holding the hand of glory. He gently pried open the cover of the pin code panel to begin disarming the alarm. Across the hall the security guard from before knocked on the door of the room Bela was waiting in. She tucked a glass bottle containing a ship replica she had picked up from the desk into her purse. Quickly unzipping her dress. Allowing it to fall slightly, clutching it to her breast line as she peeked out the door. “Hi!” She chimed at him. “Feeling better I see.” He said. “Oh much. Thank you.” He was trying not to look down at her disheveled clothing. “Well if you’re done with the room.” She blushed slightly. “I’m, could we have a few more minutes?” He smiled shyly. “Um…yes Ma'am.” She closed the door. He heard he giggling saying “That tickles.”, as he turned to walk away. Dean running smack into him. “Whoa! Sorry. Nature called.” Dean explained. “Hey thanks for looking after my wife.” The guard smirked. “Oh, she’s being looked after all right.” The man said to Dean’s confused face as he walked away. Dean opened the door. Stepping in to find Bela pulling the straps of her dress back into place. “Any trouble?” he asked. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She replied, fluffing her long curly hair. Dean pulled the hand from his inner coat pocket. “May I?” She asked, a hand reaching out for it. “Nice try.” He said as he pulled his pocket square out. Unfolding it to wrap the hand in it. Replacing it in his inner coat pocket.

Sam sipped his champagne as the old woman excused herself to the restroom. His fingers tapping the bar in boredom. In the blink of an eye a beautiful dark haired woman with stunning brown eyes appeared in the seat next to him. He shot bolt upright. “Holy sh-.” She shh’ed him, her eyes flashing red for a single second. “Demon!” He said quietly, ready to bolt. She gripped his wrist firmly, forcing him to stay seated. “It’s Regina. Don’t make a scene. Please, I’m here to help you.” He jerked his hand away. “I know who you are. Release my brother from his contract!” Her face held an honest look of regretful sorrow. “Samuel, I can’t. I don’t hold the contract. Your brother knew what he was getting himself into. But I can help you. Please hear me out. Accept this as a peace offering.” She slide something discreetly into his lap. He looked down to find the jagged demon blade. He tucked it into his coat pocket in haste. “Tell me why I shouldn’t use this on you right now?” He asked. “Besides the fact that we are surrounded by witnesses? Why do you think I chose this moment to contact you? Listen to me Samuel. Your brother can not go to hell. I broke the rules when I offered him his deal. He’s already supposed to be dead. We changed the path of destiny. The demon that holds his contract is named Lilith. She’s ruthlessly evil. We have to find a way to save him. If Dean enters the pit…the world will end with him.” Sam stared at her blankly. “Why should I trust a single thing you say? You’re the reason for all of this! Dean’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve this!” She sighed heavily. “Look, you’re right. I shouldn’t have gave him what he asked for. Your brother and I…let’s just say I’ve been in his shoes. I’ve felt what he feels. But if you agree to trust me, I will help you find a way to save him. There has to be one. I know it.” He hesitated for a long moment. “Dean can't know. It’s not in him to trust demons.” She nodded. “I agree. For now. Let me handle him.” She snapped her fingers. Vanishing as fast as she had appeared. Gertrude was suddenly pulling him by the arm out onto the dance floor. He held her at a distance, his mind racing. “Man this is one long song.” He groaned out. “I hope it never ends.” She sighed into his chest. “How’s the investigation going?” She asked. He rolled his eyes. Unsure of how much more he could handle. “These things take time.” He said flatly. “People are talking. Whispering about the Warren brother’s deaths.” He suddenly became interested. “Peter?” he asked. She nodded. I think they had it coming. People say their father didn’t die of natural causes. Rumor has it the boys did it. So they could inherit his money.” Sam pulled away from her slightly. She was growing handsy again. “Did Sheila have any tragedy in her life?” He asked. Looking for a connection between the three victims. “We’ll there was a car accident. Her cousin Brian was killed. But what does that have to do with the Warren’s?” She asked. “Uh, probably nothing.” Dean and Bela walked into the room. “Well, having a nice time?” Bela asked. The old woman rushed over to her. “He’s delightful!” She said before kissing the younger woman on the cheek. “You know they’re fags?” She whispered before she turned to eye Dean. “Oh.” Bela said in mock surprise. “He still wants me.” Gertrude said with a wink. Bela leaned over whispering to the boys. “I’m going to get Gert into a cold shower.” She escorted the woman out of the room. Dean turned to Sam, pushing his open mouth closed with his index finger. “You stink like sex and old people.”

They stepped into the impala, closing the doors before speaking. “You got it right? Tell me I didn’t have grandma Robinson grinding on my leg all night for nothing.” Sam growled out as he loosened his tie. Dean pulled the folded handkerchief out of his coat. As he unwrapped it the hand wasn’t a hand at all. It was a ship in a glass bottle. Both wore stern looks of anger. “I’m gonna kill her.” Dean growled.

They were back inside the abandoned house they’d been crashing in, Dean pacing the living room floor. “You know you’re right. I’m not gonna kill her. Gonna torture her til she begs me to kill her. And then I’m gonna gank her.” Sam sighed, snapping the book in his hand shut. “De, relax.” Dean scoffed at him. “Oh I’ll relax. I can’t believe that bitch got one over on us. Thieving con-artist bitch!” A panicked knock sounded from the front door. Dean opened it to find said thief. “I can explain. I sold it.” Dean slammed the door behind her as she moved into the room. Sitting down in a chair between them. “I had a buyer lined up as soon as I learned of its existence. I find occult objects and sell them to the highest bidder. Dean paced around her. Murderous intent in his eyes. He held his hand up behind her head like a gun. Mock shooting her as Sam eyed him with disapproval. “So the whole us going to the charity ball was?” Sam said. She looked him dead in the eye. “I needed a cover. You were convenient.” She stated as if it were nothing. “Just go buy it back.” Sam said. “It’s half way across the ocean. I can’t buy it back in time.” She said. “In time for what?” Dean barked angrily. She looked down at the floor. “I saw the ship.” Dean chuckled softly. “Wow. I knew you were a thieving con-artist bitch but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn’t get any lower.” He said mocking her. She turned to him in confusion. “The spirit’s motive.” Sam said. He flipped through the photos she’d left on the table earlier. Pulling one out. “This is the captain of our ship. The one that hung our ghost.” He said, placing it in front of her. “So?” She asked. “They were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So, now the ghost boy goes after a specific target. People who’ve spilled their own families blood.” He paused as her eyes grew blank. “See Sheila killed her cousin in a car accident. And the Warren’s killed their dad for the inheritance. And now you.” He concluded. “Oh my god.” She said. Dean leaned over her. Pleased with her current issue. “So who was it Bela? Who’d you kill?” He teased at her. That dark presence showing it’s self again. “Was it daddy? Little sis maybe?” She shivered at his cold heartless words. Sam looking ever disapproving of his behavior. “It’s none of your business.” She said through clinched teeth. “Well have a nice life. You know whatever’s left of it.” He clapped her on the back. Walking around the room. Picking up his leather jacket. “Sam, let’s go.” She stood up. “You can’t just leave me here. I need your help.” Sam was having a moral struggle. Dean’s coldness had made his mind up for him. “What’d you do Bela?” Sam asked. Fighting to find a reason to help her. “You wouldn’t understand. No one did.” She said. “Never mind. I’ll deal with it myself. Like always.” She turned away. “You do realize you just sold the only thing that can save you.” Dean said. “I’m aware.” She replied. “Well…maybe not the only thing.” Sam stated as they both turned to look at him.

Sam stood before a cement coffin tomb in the middle of the town’s cemetery. A pentacle drawn in chalk upon it. Five candles lit at each point of the star. He poured a vial of her blood into a bowl in the center placing a lock cut from her hair into it. “Do you really think this is going to work?” She said with a sigh. “Probably not.” Dean said. Thunder crashed in the night. The wind howling around them as rain poured from a cloudless starry sky. Dean held his salt rock loaded shot gun at the ready. “Sammy. You better start reading.” The younger Winchester pulled John's journal from under his arm. Flipping to a hand written spell and began chanting in latin. As the wind grew stronger the candles blew out. “Behind you!” Bela screamed as the spirit appeared behind Dean. It threw him into a tombstone, knocking the shotgun out of his hand. It touched her face. She began spitting out water. Drowning. Dean rushed to her side. Holding her. “Sam! Read faster!” He yelled. Sam was going as fast as he could. The rain stopped suddenly as the apparition of the spirit’s brother appeared behind him. It turned to him. “You hanged Me! Your own brother!” it said in a ghostly moan. “I’m sorry.” The other one cried out. The hanged man launching himself at his brother. The two of them exploding into water. Vanishing as the liquid mist fell to the earth. The three of them left staring at each other in the cold, soaked to the bone.

The next day Bela walked into the house to find the boys packed and getting dressed. “You boys should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in.” she said as she moved to stand before them. “Yeah that’s been happening a lot lately. Come to say goodbye or thank you?” Sam said. She pulled two huge stacks of hundred dollar bills from her purse. “I’ve come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother. Very clever Sam.” She said. She tossed a stack of cash to each of them. “That’s 10,000. That should cover it.” Dean scoffed. “So throwing us 10 grand is easier for you then a simple thank you? You’re so damaged.” She smiled at him sarcastically. “Takes one to know one. Goodbye lads.” She turned walking out, slamming the door behind her. “She’s got style. Can’t deny that. Dean we don’t know where this money has been.” Sam said. Dean took his stack from him. “Yeah, but I know where it’s going.”

Sam was looking at a map inside the impala. “Why do you wanna go to Atlantic city?” Dean smiled. “Play some roulette. Always bet on black.” He reached over, rubbing Sam’s leg. “Look baby boy. I just wanna have fun with you. I see what you’re going through…” He took a long pause. “Me going away…and all that. But you’re gonna be ok. Gonna find a nice girl. Pop out a few kids. Get a fat beer belly.” Sam scoffed. “What makes you think that?” Dean squeezed his thigh. “You’re stronger than me baby. You are. You’ll move on ok. You’ll get over it.” Sam cleared his throat in an attempt to end the conversation. “I want you to know I’m sorry…for putting you through all this.” Sam exploded. “Fuck you Dean! Stop worrying about me! Care about yourself! I want you to give a fuck that you’re dying!” Dean shock his head, jaw clinched tight. “Not gonna fight with you Sam.” His eyes stayed on the road as he lifted his hand from Sam’s leg placing it on the wheel. “That’s it? Nothing else to say?” Sam pushed. His anger wanting Dean to fight back. “I think I’ll play some poker.” Sam sighed, staring out the window as Dean turned the radio up. Led Zeppelin's ‘Ten Years Gone' filling the air.

_‘Changes fill my time, baby, that's alright with me_

  
_In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be_

  
_Did you ever really need somebody,_

_And really need 'em bad_

  
_Did you ever really want somebody, The best love you ever had_

  
_Do you ever remember me, baby, did it feel so good’_

  
Nine of those years Dean would never have _._


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester brothers are taking a much needed break from hunting in Atlantic City. That is until a friend decides to pay them a visit.

[](https://ibb.co/kSy0Gm)   
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Dean sat alone at a slot machine in the Borgata Hotel and Spa's Casino. He smiled at the richness around him. A warm bubbly feeling inside him. They may have gotten a bottom of the barrel room in this fancy ass place, but this is something he’d never been able to give Sam before. “Come on baby! Daddy wants the penthouse for his Baby boy.” He said as he pushed a token into the machine before he pressed the blinking spin button on the screen. Rows of different symbols flashing on the screen as they began to spin. His hand hovering over the stop button. He was down 3 grand already. “If there’s a god…please help a dying man out.” He whispered as he pressed the button. He watched as the symbols slowed on screen. Stopping with the words ‘Mega Jackpot’ written in gold letters flashing before him. Alarms blasted out of the machines speakers. A rainbow of neon lights flashing on the sides of the machine. “Holy shit! I won 30 grand…” He stood up so fast he knocked his stool over. “I WON 30 GRAND!” He screamed as two men wearing Gucci suits approached him. “Congratulations sir. If you’re ready to pay out please follow us.”

Dean ran up to Sam at the bar. “What ever he owes just have it billed to our room. The name’s Winchester.” He said to the tender as he grabbed Sam’s hand, pulling him behind him to the front desk. “I'd like to upgrade our room please.” He said to a stunning blond behind the desk. “Of course Mr. Winchester, and which room would you like to book this evening?” She said with a smile. “The penthouse suite.” He said, earning a concerned look from Sam. “De we can’t afford that.” She eyed them. Taking in Dean’s faded blue jeans, worn out old leather jacket, scruffy two day old stubble. “Sir you’re aware the penthouse is 2,000 dollars a night?” He pulled a stack of hundreds out of his coat pocket.

“I want it for 3 nights. I also need room service to send up two steaks, mid rare, with baked potatos, fully loaded. I want a tray of chocolate covered strawberries, and a bottle of the most expensive whiskey the bar has.” Her smile returned as she clicked away with her manicured nails on the keyboard in front of her. She rose from her seat as a plastic room key printed out of a machine next to her. She leaned over so her cleavage would show, long blond beach curls falling over her shoulders as she took his money and handed him the key. “Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to make your stay with us more…pleasurable Mr. Winchester.” Her fingers lingered on his hand a bit to long. “That’ll be all. Thank you.” He said before he turned to Sam, smacking his ass. “Come on honey! Your castle awaits.” They left her standing with her jaw hanging open.

A few minutes later they stood before the door to the penthouse, ragged old duffle bags in hand as Dean slide the key card into the door. As they stepped inside both took in the room with astonishment. The entire back wall was a window with a view of the city. A huge living area with one of those sectional couches Dean had only ever seen in magazines sat before a 70 inch flat screen mounted on the wall. On the opposite wall was a stocked bar. And behind it a set of large red oak doors leading to the bedroom. He dropped his bag, speeding across the rich white carpeted floor to fling the doors open. Sam followed him inside.

A huge double king size bed lay in the center of the room. A 50 inch flat screen on the wall across from it. A red oak desk in the corner. Dean was flicking a switch on the wall which opened motorized curtains to reveal a second stunning view of the city skyline. Sam's eyes following his brother as he ran to what had to be the bathroom. As Dean opened the door he froze. “Oh my god.” He said. Sam walked over peering into the room. The first thing that came into focus was the bathtub. It wasn’t a tub at all. A cascading water fall flowed down into a steaming granite in ground hot tub. A stand up shower with a bench inside, completely made out of marble. A stunning granite couples vanity spanning the length of the back wall beside a toilet worthy of the name throne. A knock sounded at the front door.

Dean opened it with the smile of a kid on his birthday to a waiter with a cart of food. They watched as the man uncovered two gold plates with delectable 12 ounce filets, fully loaded baked potatoes, and rolls. He placed a tray of elegant looking chocolate covered strawberries with the tops pre-removed on the table with a bottle of whiskey. And lastly he placed down two flutes of sparkling champagne. “I hope you find your meal cooked to perfection. The whiskey is aged 3 years. It’s 100 proof Jack Daniels limited edition priced at 499.00 dollars. The champagne is compliments of the chef sir. He hopes you will find it to pair well with the strawberries. Is there anything else we can do for you gentlemen?” The man gave a slight bow after he spoke. Dean slipped him a hundred dollar bill before giving the man his leave. He turned to Sam, arms stretched out as if to say ‘Look at what I got you’. “Dean…what the hell man?” Sam asked. His older brother smiling still. “I won 30 grand Sammy. I wanted to give you the best.”

They cleaned their plates, leaning back in their chairs. “Man that was good.” Sam said. Dean downed his whiskey before rising from the table, grabbing the tray of strawberries and champagne. He walked off into the bedroom returning a few moments later empty handed. He leaned against the open red oak door stark naked, beckoning Sam to him with his finger. Like a moth drawn to the flame, Sam rose from his chair. Feeling the soft carpet between his toes as he padded across the floor. Dean gripped him by his shirt, pulling him into the room. His clothes flying across the room as expertly skill hands undressed him. Dean led him into the bathroom where the tray awaited them beside the hot tub.

Sam watched as Dean sank down into the steaming water, leaning back against the side, spreading his legs slightly. His finger beckoning Sam forward again. Strong hands sliding to grip his hips as he sank into the hot water, bringing him down to straddle Dean’s lap. A strawberry was pressed against his lips. He opened his mouth, tasting the sweet juices inside mixed with even sweeter chocolate as he bit down. Feeling Dean’s lips against his as he leaned up to take the rest of the berry into his own mouth. Followed by the lip of the glass pressed against his mouth before it was tipped up to pour some inside. This went on for a while. Dean feeding him berries and champagne while his tongue worked Sam’s neck. Their lips meeting to share the sweet treats. Until both men were achingly hard. The feeling of their erections pressed together a pleasant torture.

Sam’s head tipped back, a moan slipping from his lips as Dean took both of their erections into his hand, stroking them slowly. In a teasing sort of way. Making Sam gasp at the feeling of fingers ghosting against the tip of his as they moved up farther to Dean's. Dean had always been slightly more endowed then himself. Thumbing the slits of their heads before dipping back down to the base. It wasn’t long before they were grinding against each other. Water splashing over the sides of the tub onto the floor. “You like that Sammy? Want big brother to give you more?” Dean’s voice was dark and raspy. “Yes. Please De.” Sam mewled. “Please what?” Dean persuaded. “Please sir?” Sam said questioningly. Teeth gently nipped a punishment against his neck. “Try again.” Said Dean. “Master?” Sam asked. Another slightly harder bite. “Come on baby. Try harder. It’ll come to you.” Dean crooned into his ear. Sam hissed at the feeling of teeth scraping against his skin. Why couldn’t he figure out what Dean wanted. He was calling him baby again…perhaps? “Daddy?” Sam said timidly. Dean moaned his approval. Thrusting his cock up against Sam's. “Good boy. Now tell Daddy what you want?” Dean practically purred against Sam’s lips. “Want you to take me into the bedroom. Need you inside me.” Sam was panting with excitement. “And what do we say to get what we want?” It was torture. Achingly sweet. “Please Daddy.”

Dean lay awake watching Sam in a peaceful sex sated sleep. He slipped silently out of the bed. Walking naked into the bathroom. He let out a long yawn as he relieved himself. Giving two shakes before tearing off a strip of tissue and wiping the tip of himself clean, throwing it into the bowl, then flushing. “Hello Dean.” He spun around, covering himself with his hands. “Jesus fucking Christ!” he yelped out as his eyes met Regina's. She tossed him one of the fluffy hotel robes froom a nearby hook on the wall, which he caught one handed. He pulled it on as she averted her eyes. Neither one trusting the other long enough to turn their backs to each other. “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you find us?” She cleared her throat. “It’s not hard when you have the gift of sight. We need to talk Dean.” His mind was racing. Struggling to find a way to get to his bag for weapons.

“I’m not here to hurt you Dean. There’s something you need to know.” She said. He eyed her with murderous rage. “Incase you forgot I kill things like you. All I have to do is yell and my brother will burst in here with the colt and light your ass up.” She smiled knowingly at him. “Come now Dean. We both know you used the last bullet on Azazel. You held up your end of the bargain. Now I’ve come to repay you. Understand that my kind has gone underground for the moment. They await a new King to arise. They expected it to be Sam but we both know how that turned out. I’m here to share the truth with you. But first, if you’ll allow me. I need you to understand that you can trust me.” She said, her words sounding pure. He chuckled sarcastically. “Nothing you can do or say will ever make me trust a filthy thing like you.” He barked at her. She sighed in aggravation. She moved quickly, grabbing him by the back of the head, forcing her lips to his. His eyes glowing red as her sight became his.

 

* * *

  
Regina was sitting on a blanket in a park. Watching a petite long haired blond woman picking up empty plates to place them in a basket. The blond gently gripping her face as they laid back onto the ground sharing a passionate kiss.

  
Regina winced at the woman in front of her. “You can’t be gay! I raised you better than that! All this time I’ve been working to put you through law school and this is what you’ve been doing behind my back? You’re fucking dead to me! Get out! I never want to see you again!” The woman screamed at her. She was sobbing. A heart retching sound. “Mom please. If you’d just get to know her.” She pleaded as a fist slammed into her face. A sharp throbbing pain searing into her memory.  


She walked through the front door of a small house in the suburbs. Laying her brief case down on the table. The blond woman sitting on the opposite side of her in a police uniform. “How was court today?” The blond asked before munching on a bagel. “Horrible. This won’t be ending any time soon. I’m going to have to cancel our vacation plans.” Regina said as she rubbed her temples. “Again? Gina this is the third time? Are we ever going to have time to actually be together?” She sighed. “Please. I’m not going to fight with you. Not before you go on patrol.” There was yelling. Fuzzy static images of angry faces and harsh tones.  


Regina lay back on the couch. Tipping a bottle of red wine up to guzzle the last bit down. Her phone rang. “Hello?” she said. Her face growing deathly pale.

 

She stood just behind a glass window of an operating room. The doctor’s voice slowly coming into focus as a screen was showing a fading heart rate. “She was shot while doing a routine traffic stop. There’s internal bleeding. The bullet cut the spinal cord. She’s fading fast. I’m sorry. There’s nothing more we can do.” She stepped away as she placed a trembling hand to the glass. A nurse coming to stand next to her. “A friend of yours?” The woman said. Regina nodded, tears flowing down her cheeks. “What if I could help you? I can save her life for you.” She turned to face the woman. “What?” She asked. Red eyes flashed before her as the nurse grinned wickedly. “I can save her. She will live a long life. All it’ll cost you is your soul. I’ll even give you ten years to spend with her. All you have to do is say yes. We give a little harmless kiss and your girlfriend is back in the game. What do you say?” The monitors flat lined. Regina nodded in panic. “Yes, please save her!” She sobbed. The nurse kissed her roughly before snapping her fingers, vanishing into thin air. Regina turned to the window. The monitors all returning to normal. The blond woman’s eyes opening as she took a deep breath.

 

She was in a dark place. Screams of agony blaring around her as she felt pieces of her flesh being pulled from the bone. A dark figure standing above her. His face unable to be seen as her vision grew blurry from pain. “All you have to do is say yes. And it’ll all stop. You’ll never have to feel my blade again. It’s been….2 years now. What do you say?” The voice was raspy. It held a strange sort of lisp. She opened her mouth, her blood pouring out onto her porcelain skin. “Yes.” It was a weak gasp. And suddenly she was born anew. The flesh that had been cut from her regrown. A weeping soul strapped down before her. A blade in her own hand.  


Black smoke funneled down the throat of a woman walking her dog late at night. The leash falling to the ground as red eyes shown brightly in the night. The woman walked for what seemed like hours. Nonstop until she reached a tombstone in a lonely graveyard. Hours it took to dig the earth by hand. She cracked open the coffin, Regina’s body inside. Black smoke rushing out of the woman into the corpse.

 

Regina stood outside the small house in the suburbs. Watching the blond woman sitting at the table inside. A glass of wine in hand as she stared off into nothing. Tears flowing down her face. She couldn’t go in. As much as she wanted she was to ashamed of what she had become. She could never go back.

 

* * *

  
Dean was suddenly aware of a wetness falling onto his cheeks. Aware of soft lips pressed to his along with a slender frame in his arms. A body that wasn’t Sam’s. He shoved her back. Watched in confused silence as she wiped tears from her eyes. “We aren’t that different you and I. I loved her more than anything. My mother never approved of our relationship. I stood to lose the one thing that mattered most to me. I sold my soul for her life. I went to hell for her. And I became what I am now.” She said with agony in her voice. Or was it sympathy. He stared at her in shock. “You…were human once?” She nodded. “Yes Dean. All demons were human. But after you spend enough time in the pit…everyone becomes what I am.” He sank to his knees. His head hung low.

He couldn’t become one of the things he hunted. How could he ever face Sam again when he would crawl out of the pit? “I’m here to help you Dean. Samuel and I will find a way to void your contract. I don’t hold it. It’s with a demon named Lilith.” His voice shook as he spoke. “Why?” She tilted his chin up so he was looking at her. “Because I was to ashamed to return to my love. I haven't been what I am for long. I still remember what its like to be human. We will find a way. So you don’t have to be the one standing outside that door unable to go in.” She turned her head to the bathroom door. “Samuel is awake. There’s more you need to know. But you need to trust your brother. I’ll return if you decide this is what you want.” He gazed up at her. Jade eyes filled with sympathy. She had been him. They were one in the same. So enveloped in the love that was their own that they’d sacrifice everything for the one’s that held their heart in hand. She snapped her fingers. She was gone.

Sam stepped into the dark bathroom. “Dean?” his eyes taking in the sight of his ever strong brother weak and vulnerable on his knees upon the bathroom floor. Tears streaming down his face. “De!” Within seconds he was holding Dean in his arms. Kissing away the tears from his face. “What happened? De what’s wrong?” Desperate sobs retched themselves from Dean’s vocal cords. “I’m gonna become…a demon Sammy…I can't. Sammy I can't.” Sam held him close. “What are you talking about? It’s gonna be ok Dean.” Dean moved so he was looking up at him. “She said I would…if…if I go to hell I’ll come back as…” He couldn’t say it again. “The crossroads demon?” Sam asked. Dean nodded, holding his face in his hands. “That’s never gonna happen Dean. Because you’re not going to die. I’m gonna save you. There’s a way. I know it.”

Sam pulled the blankets over them. He held Dean even after the tears had stopped. After his older brother had fallen asleep. After the helpless groans of tormenting nightmares had passed. Dean still wrapped in his arms as the sun rose. The first rays of morning light creeping in through the window. A glorious view of the skyline shown as a ray of warming comfort. They may have to trust a demon to get it. But there was hope for the Winchester's.

It was almost noon when Sam woke to find Dean on the couch at the bottom of the Jack Daniels bottle. Piss drunk watching ‘Jersey Shore’ reruns. “Dean seriously?” He tipped the bottle up to let the last few drops drip into his mouth. “Don’t you judge me. The JWOWW one is hot….I’m pretty sure the one they call Snooki is a demon.” Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Why the hell are you watching this garbage?” Dean piled up throw pillows behind him, shifting to a laying position on the massive sectional. Patting his leg to signal his brother over. Sam laid the length of his body down on top of him. Snuggling up to him. “Can’t find the remote…all they do is get drunk fuck each other and fight about it.” Dean confessed. He placed gentle kisses on Sam’s forehead as he wrapped his strong arms around his little brother’s shoulders. Sam placing his head under Dean’s chin as they drifted off to sleep. Two puzzle pieces fitting together in perfection.

“Well isn’t that just disgustingly sweet.” The boys sprung awake to the sound of a woman’s voice. They scrambled. Dean shoving Sam back as he pulled his Colt from behind his back aiming it at the intruder. Sam gripping the barrel, slipping his finger between the butt of the gun and the hammer to jam it as the trigger attempted to click, unable to release the bullet from the chamber. “DEAN! STOP IT!” He screamed as he glared at his brother. Dean trying to level out his breathing as he glared at the woman. His eyes growing sad as he took in Regina’s face. He lowered the gun. Sam looking back and forth between them. “Jesus…what the fuck did you do to him?” He barked at her. She stepped across the floor with graceful elegance before lowering herself on the opposite side of the sectional. “Do not attempt to blame me for your brother’s primal behavior Samuel. That monster was there long before I came along.” She smoothed the fabric of her pin skirt flat.

“It’s Sam. What did you say to him? Besides some fucking bullshit about becoming a demon? He’s freaking out?” He barked at her. Dean sat in uncomfortable silence after laying the gun on the coffee table. “I’ve only done as we agreed. I showed him the truth to gain his trust. Although it seems I’ve only gained his empathy.” Emerald eyes snapped to meet hazel. Dean’s face disapproving. “De I was gonna tell you. She said she’d help you. She gave me the demon blade.” Sam said in an attempt to justify the secret. They were bickering. Throwing about words like secrets, trust, and thought we were past this. Shoving each other the way siblings do. She sighed in aggravation, rubbing her temples. ‘What the fuck am I doing…helping hunters…’ She thought to herself. “I can’t believe you teamed up with the fucking demon that started all this behind my back!” Dean bellowed. “Damn it Dean! Don’t you put that shit on me! You did what you did! She didn’t make you do it!” Sam’s baritone clashed with Dean’s bass as they grew louder. “Sticking up for demons now Samantha?” Dean spat the words at him.

“Ok John Jr!” Sam spat. Dean ground his teeth together. “Oh fuck you! Next you’ll be telling me I can’t do anything right? Huh?” Dean spat back. “Fuck you Dean.” They were staring each other down. Foreheads pressed together as they huffed in each other’s faces. “Yeah? Fuck me? Why? Cause it’s the only thing I can do right?” Any second they would either punch each other or start ripping each other's clothing off. Regina chimed in. “ENOUGH!” They separated like children scolded by a parent. Leaving space between them. Arms folded over their chests. Dean growling as Sam let out a humph. “Look, like it or not I’m the only one trying to help you. We can work together or you can just go to hell. Choice is yours.” Sam sighed, softening. “We’re sorry. Things have been tense lately.” He said in apology. She cleared her throat, crossed her legs. “Dean can’t go to hell. If he does…he will become a demon. He will bring about the end of times.” She said. “So you’ve said. But you haven’t given any ideas on how to stop all this from happening.” Sam barked at her. “I do have a plan…but Dean is the problem. He’ll never agree to it.” She stated matter of factly. The Winchester's exchanged heavy glances before speaking in unison. “Go on…”

“Lilith holds the contract. She’s old. Beginning of time old. She’s viciously evil. And cunning. The key to beating her is Sam. Your powers can be developed. If you grow strong enough to over come her. She may void the contract as a last ditch effort to save her own life. She may be wicked. But she’s also seen so much she’s afraid of her own shadow. Nothing can truly live forever. Death will come for us all one day. In all his permanence. She will do whatever it takes to survive as long as possible.” She explained. Dean shifted in his seat. “And how does that happen? Because the visions hurt him. And if Sam’s not safe it ain’t happenin.” He said, laying down the law. She sighed. Here it comes. She locked eyes with Sam. “This is where Dean will refuse. But it’s your choice Samuel. There is so much more you can do than see the future. Your visions are painful because you’re running on empty. Your powers come from demon blood. There’s not enough of it within you to fuel your strength. You will need to consume more in order to develop them.” Dean made to end all negotiations. He was held back by a flick of her hand. He opened his mouth in protest yet couldn’t make a sound.

 

“Silence.” She said, her eyes remaining on Sam's struggling expression. “Understand this Sam Winchester. This comes at a great price to you. Demon blood is like a drug for humans. As well as an aphrodisiac. If you become addicted...You will crave it. You will crave your brother much more violently then you do now. Should you succeed in saving your brother and choose to stop ingesting it…there is a very small chance you may die from withdrawals.” Sam seemed to be in deep thought. “Before I release Dean I do have a suggestion. Perhaps my blood would be ideal. I’ve only been a demon for a few months. I’m new. I still hold a fragment of my humanity within me. You’re less likely to become an addict if you feed from me.” Dean was shaking with rage. “I…I don’t know.” She nodded. “Think it over. Discuss it amongst each other. But I promise I will share everything I know with you both. Unfortunately as I am a crossroads demon the majority of my power comes from my kiss. It’s best you know what will happen if we fail. Understand our actions may change the possible outcome. Everything we do to change what is seen shifts the path of destiny.”

She rose from her seat. Sauntering over to them. She pressed their heads together, cheek to cheek, the corner of their lips touching each others. She leaned down to them. Both of their eyes glowing red as she pressed all three sets of lips together.

 

* * *

 

 

Tears raced down Sam’s face as he sunk his shovel into the cold dry earth for the final time. Lifting to heave the last scoop of dirt from a freshly dug grave on to the mounted pile behind him. He stepped out, eyes empty of all color as he gazed upon his brother’s corpse. Shredded like a rag from hellhound claws. Dean's eyes were still open. Utterly lifeless. Sam lifted him into the grave, laying him down gently. Closing his eyes tenderly with a shaking hand. He lay on the cold earth with his dead love in his arms until the sun rose. Countless times considering pulling the dirt down over them so he would die too. Buried alive with Dean. He pulled the necklace from around Dean placing it around his own neck. Pulled the silver band from a cold limp finger to slip it on in front of his own. He crawled out of the grave. Laying on the grass for hours motionless. Finally he rose to his feet. Picked up the shovel and started to fill Dean’s resting place.  


The ground above Dean's grave crumbled as hands reached out to the surface. He crawled out. Emerging covered in dirt. Eyes as black as night. The hordes of demons that surrounded the grave bowed to him chanting the words. “Rex Inferorum.” Dean cracked his neck. His eyes searched the crowd as he boomed his first command. His jaw clinched in rage when he couldn’t find Regina amount his servants. “Find Sam Winchester.” His deep voice laced with a dark animalistic roar as he sounded his command. Black smoke boomed from the mouths of the bodies around him flying off into the night in all directions.

 

Dean leaned against Baby's hood in the front yard of Bobby Singer’s home, gripping the cold metal of his colt in his hand. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he paced up the stairs of the front porch. He kicked the front door. Sending it bursting forth into the room. “Daddy's home!” he called out as he unloaded on the devil’s trap just inside the door. Emptying the clip to break the circle. He took three to the chest from Bobby’s pistol, grunting as he stepped inside, eyes searching the room. Sam and Regina were huddled in the corner of the room shielding Ellen with their bodies. Bobby rushed forward, slamming the demon blade into Dean’s heart. He roared in pain, eyes on the old man’s shocked face with murderous anger. “That pig sticker is useless against me old man.” He said as he twisted the blade, pulling it out of his chest. “Dean? You were my son. What have you become?” Bobby said with tears in his eyes.

 

Dean sunk the blade into Bobby’s stomach, slicing him open. “I’m the King of hell. And you…you're nothing to me.” He grinned with pleasure as Ellen screamed when he pulled the blade out, letting Bobby fall to the floor. He snapped his fingers. Her neck spun around. The crunching of bones filling the sudden deafening silence. With a second snap of his fingers Sam was falling to the floor, unconscious. Regina’s shaking hands aiming the ancient colt at him. She pulled the trigger. The bullet landing in his shoulder. He flinched, growling at her. His face a feral snarl. She moved to run but he was to fast.

 

He threw himself on to her, pinning her to the ground. He slammed her head back, fisting her hair. She clawed at him, bunking underneath him uselessly. “And you…lastly you. Filthy, treacherous fucking bitch.” He said with an evil grin. She spat in his face. He wiped it from his cheek with his finger tips, sticking them in his mouth, sucking them clean. “You thought you could play me? Try and keep me from taking my throne? From claiming my mate?” He hissed at her. “You’re not Dean…you’re a monster wearing his body.” She stared into his eyes. He leaned down, whispering in her ear. “I am what you made me.” He sunk the blade into her heart. Flashes of lightening surging through her before sizzling out. He rose to his feet, kicking her lifeless body. He scooped Sam up, climbing the stairs to lay Sam on their bed.

* * *

 

 

The Winchester's were whining in emotional pain against her lips. She pulled back briefly. “Not yet. One more thing you must see.” She pressed her body between them. Taking Dean’s lips in her own before tilting her head, pressing her lips to Sam's. Their eyes heavy with lust, high off her power. Crossroads demon’s wielded their energy like a form of seduction. It was starting to burn inside them. She pushed their heads towards each other. Forcing their lips to meet. Eye lids closing over two pairs of glowing red eyes. Their tongues protruding out, battling each other as her hands slipped away. Dean pushing Sam back onto the couch, mounting him, his movements primal. Grinding their bodies together like wild beasts. They had no idea what they were doing, neither of them truly there in that moment. The final vision playing before their eyes. Sam’s hands were working Dean’s belt as Dean’s pulled Sam’s sweats down. She sauntered across the room, swaying to the vibrations coming from them. The smell of sex heavy in the air. The only sound heard the crescendo of ragged husky male moans. She vanished with a snap of her fingers.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam woke with his arms pinned above his head. He was painful aware that he was naked. Dean’s black eyes watching him as he ground his erection into Sam’s thigh. Looming above him as his black eyes gazed upon Sam’s body. “No! You’re not my brother! You killed them! You killed Bobby!” Sam screamed. “Shh…baby boy. You’re gonna be ok. I know you’re wanting it. You’re sweating from withdrawals. I can hear your pulse begging for it.” Sam tried to resist but it was no good. His nostrils flared as he breathed in Dean’s blood stained clothes. The older Winchester shed his shirt, the bullet wounds in his chest and shoulder healed. Yet marked red with dried blood. Sam was panting, his eyes glazed over. Dean lowered himself down, his shoulder placed above Sam’s mouth. “Bite me baby boy. Tear into me. Drink me.” Sam moaned as he felt his own cock twitch with interest.

 

Dean's smell was everywhere. Cheap soap, whiskey, leather, a tinge of motor oil. He bit down on Dean's shoulder. Sinking his teeth into the warm flesh so hard he heard the pop of skin breaking before the wet hot feeling of metallic liquid touching his tongue. Things were moving quickly now. Sam was moaning against Dean’s shoulder. His sleeping cock was at full hardness in an instant. Dean was working his hole open with lubed fingers. Sam swallowed, gulping mouth fulls of Dean’s blood. Some of the red liquid life pouring down onto their chests as Sam mewled a scream of pleasure when Dean slammed his cock inside him. Dean lifted them up, pressing Sam against the head board as he pounded away into him savagely. Sam’s nails sinking into his back, tearing the flesh of the old scars open anew. Dean hissed in pleasure. Willing his power to keep his wounds from healing. His black eyes alive with satisfaction. “It was all for you baby boy. I went in a broken man but climbed out of that fucking pit a king for you.” Sam crashed their lips together.

 

Blood meshing with saliva as tongues claimed each other. “Nobody left to stop us Sammy. I’ll fuck you, let you drink me, forever and always. You’ll rule my kingdom by my side as my prince.” Dean was shifting back on his heels. Laying down on his back with Sam straddling him. Still buried balls deep inside him. Pushing back until his massive cock could be seen under the skin of Sam’s slim stomach. “Ride your king baby brother. Fuck yourself on my cock while I feed you.” He leaned up just enough to support himself on one arm as he pressed his wrist against Sam’s lips. Sam nibbling the skin gently, worry in his glossed over eyes. “Don’t worry baby, drink. Bleed me dry. A knight of hell can’t be killed so easily.” Wicked laughter boomed from his chest. Sam was cumming harder than he’d ever felt before as the second pop of broken skin was heard, blood rushing forth into his mouth. Writhing on top of his brother as he bounced up and down frantically, riding him. High off demon blood and Dean’s sex.

 

* * *

 

  
As the boys came down from the visions, back into reality, their eyes met each other. The emotion behind them unexplainable. Fear, lust, sadness? Everything a person could feel wrapped up into one. Sam was on his knees on the floor with Dean’s hips trusting his achingly hard cock, pumping down his throat. Sam’s hand vigorously stroking his own erection. Dean was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward to hover over Sam. His hand wrapped around Sam’s neck, feeling his cock moving inside beneath the skin. It was as if they woke up in the middle of the act. Once fully aware, both were cumming with eyes clamped shut. Unable to watch the other’s orgasm. Ashamed of themselves for getting off on what they’d seen.

  
Sam stood in the center of the luxurious suite, duffle bag over his shoulder. Watching his brother tie his boots. Dean wouldn’t look him in the eye, much less touch him. Not since they’d regained control after the visions Regina had shared with them. They’d slept on opposite sides of the bed. Showered alone. And sat in silence as they awkwardly ate breakfast. “Do you…want to talk about it?” Sam asked. Dean stood, cocking his colt before sliding it into the back waist band of his jeans. “Nope.” His reply was hurried as he pulled his worn leather jacket over his shoulders. Sam sighed. “De…we can’t just shove it under the rug. It’s going to happen unless we do something to change it.” Sam said. Dean crossed the floor, picking his duffle up from the end of the sectional. “What do we know about divination Sammy?” He barked. “That it’s a shot in the dark. But Dean this is real! It’s not some parlor trick. She’s been right before.”

 

Dean sighed in annoyance. Dropping his bag back on the couch, sitting down with arms crossed. “Might as well sit Sammy…since you won’t let it go. We got an hour before they kick us out of here.” Sam placed his bag down on the back of the sectional before moving to sit beside Dean. “We need to talk about what I have to do.” Sam stated, getting directly to the point. “No. I will not sit back and let that bitch be your juice box. It ain’t happenin.” Dean said in a that’s that fashion. “Dean I have to! It’s the only way to save you. I won’t let you become that monster.” A deep sarcastic laugh bellowed from Dean’s chest. “I’m already a monster. You know that. I see the way you look at me. Like you can’t figure out who I am. Trying to decide if you should stand by me or hunt me.” Sam was silent.

 

Dean smirked, a sadness unable to be covered by the weak attempt. “You’re afraid of me Sam. And you should be. The things we do…things I do to you. It’s fucked Sam. But that shit we saw? That’s just fucking sick! And the most fucked up thing about it is…some depraved fucking part of me…” His words trailed off. Sam’s eyes searching his downward tilted face. “You…liked it.” Sam breathed the confession so Dean wouldn’t have too. Dean’s voice was a defeated tortured thing. “I could feel it…the power of that fucking thing inside me. Sammy it felt good. And I hate it.” He was shaking, fist white-knuckled. “We can’t let this happen. Bobby and Ellen…Dean you’re gonna-” Dean was screaming over him. “Don’t! Don’t fucking say it!” Sam was on his knees in a instant, holding Dean’s face in his hands. Seeing the torment within. “That’s why I have to do this. We have to stop it. And I’m going to whether you like it or not. We can’t fight each other on this. If we aren’t together in this…we will fail.”

 

Dean was pulling Sam’s hands away from his face. Gripping them within his own. So hard Sam winced slightly. “Sammy I'm scared. I can't hurt you. Or them. I'd never. If…if I come back as that thing. I want you to kill me. You have to. Please baby brother. Whatever a knight of hell is…there has to be something that can kill it. Please kill me.” Sam was kissing him. Tenderly. Letting his love wash over him. Bathing Dean in a protective warmth. “I won't. Because I won’t let this happen to you.” Sam’s phone was ringing. Pulling him away from Dean’s lips. He pulled it from his coat pocket. Pressing the answer button holding it to his ear. “Hello? WHAT? Where?” he hung the phone up. Jumping to his feet. “It’s Bobby!” They grabbed their bags, racing to the door.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys race to help Bobby. Sam learns of a secret Dean has been hiding in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a prompt for the episode Dream A Little Dream Of Me from DarkSun. Thank you for waiting patiently for it. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Again this chapter does contain some plot for the story as a whole. It is not a stand alone chapter. Love Kyna.

[](https://ibb.co/m1JBNR)   
[](https://imgbb.com/)  


They stood inside a hospital room at Bobby's bedside. The old man seemingly in a coma. “So what’s the diagnosis?” Sam asked. The doctor at the foot of the bed flipped through the chart in his hands. “We’ve tested everything we could think of. We don’t know what’s causing it so we don’t know how to treat it. He just went to sleep and didn’t wake up.” The man’s face was sympathetic as he watched them. Dean leaning over Bobby’s bed, hands fisting the side rails as Sam rubbed his back. “Where did they find him?” Sam asked. “There’s a motel just outside of town. The maid is the one that found him.”

The boys walked into Bobby’s room. A lone bed in the center. Plain brick walls. Blue curtains over twin windows, desk in between them. The only décor being cheap landscape portraits and a sunburst clock above the desk. “Man it doesn’t even look like anybody’s been in here. You think there would be a pizza box, beer can, something.” Dean said as he looked around the room. Sam opened the closet. Bobby’s clothes were hung up, spaced out just enough to almost completely cover something on the wall behind them. Sam shifted the hangers, finding a map with several newspaper clippings pinned to it. Along with several pictures of different root plants and printed out research. “How bout this?” Sam said as Dean stepped beside him. “Good old Bobby. Always covers his tracks.” Dean smiled as he spoke.

“Can you make heads or tails of any of this?” Sam asked. Dean pulled a paper from the wall. “Selene Capensis. Which means nothing to me.” Dean said. “Hey look. Obit.” Sam chimed in, pulling the paper from the wall. “Dr. Walter Gregg, 64, university neurologist.” Dean leaned over, cheek pressed to Sam’s shoulder. “How’d he bite it?” He said. “Um, actually they don’t know. He went to sleep and never woke up.” Sam explained. Dean took the paper from him. Looking at the Doctor’s photo. “That sound familiar to you?” Sam shifted on his feet. Immediately missing the contact. “Um…So let’s say Bobby was looking into the Doc's death, you know hunting for something.” Dean finished his sentence for him. “That started hunting for him.” Sam nodded. “All right stay here.” Dean was pointing at the research on the wall. “See if you can make heads or tails of this. I’ll look into the good doctor myself.” He moved to the bed, starting to undress. Sam running his hands down his back as he pulled a white button up on. Sam reaching around from behind, deft hands fastening the buttons as he kissed Dean’s neck. Dean pulling his tie on, followed by the matching dress slacks of his suit. Sam spinning him around as he slowly, teasingly, pulled up the zipper. Fingers fastening his belt as their hungry tongues battled for dominance. “This usually goes the other way round.” Dean whispered as he smiled against Sam's mouth. “Just be careful.” Sam said as he kissed him a final time before Dean slipped into his dress shoes and walked out the door.

Dean stepped into the Doctor's office followed by a sulky looking brunette woman. “Well his death must have come as a shock to you.” He said, walking up to the desk in the center of the room. “Yeah, it did. But still. Go in your sleep peacefully. That’s what you wish for, right?” She said. He smiled at her. “Yeah right. Dr. Gregg studied sleeping disorders? Dreams?” He asked. “I don’t understand? I went over all of this with the other detectives.” She was eyeing him sternly, hands on her hips. “You already spoke to another detective?” He asked. “Yes. A very nice older man with a beard.” She replied. “Well, I'd love to go over it with you again, if you don’t mind.” He smiled, laying on his charm. “Thing is I’m sort of busy. Maybe we could do this later?” She said. Strike one! He'd swung but missed. He replaced charm with serious.

“Sure, I’ll just bring you down to the station later today. Get your statement on tape. Do it all official like.” Her eyes deflected from his gaze. Something in his eye was hauntingly intimidating. Here comes the pitch. “Look…I didn’t know about his experiments ok? Not until I was cleaning out his files.” He held fast at the plate. “Experiments? The ones he was doing on sleeping?” She sighed. “Nobody knew ok? Not the university, not anybody. Look I’m just a student.” He swings. “Well…you do realize this could go on your permanent record. You might even get kicked out of school. Unless you hand over the doctor's research to me. All of it.” It’s a home run, he hits it out if the park. “Look I don’t have it anymore. I got rid of it. But I can give you a name. Jeremy Frost.”

He knocked on the door to one of the dorms. The boy that answered had the appearance of a lazy stoner. Dean flashed him a fake Pittsburgh police department badge. Declaring him to be Detective Robert Plant. The boy turned, letting him into the room. “Look I don’t know what the R.A. said but I was growing ferns.” Dean chuckled. “Take it easy Phish. That’s not why I’m here.” He turned to face the boy. “I wanna talk to you about Dr. Gregg’s sleep study.” The boy gazed up at him with doe like green eyes. “Yeah, Dr. Gregg just died right?” He said. “You were one of his test subjects, right?” Dean asked. “Yeah.” The boy replied before opening the fridge, pulling two beers out. He held one out for Dean to take. “Unless you’re on duty, or whatever?” Dean smirked. “I guess I can make an exception.” He took the cold bottle from the boy, twisting the cap off, taking a swing. An attempt to earn his trust. Or if he was honest he didn’t need a reason.

“Now the doc was testing treatments for a Charcot-Wilbrand syndrome, which means?” His eyes drifting from the paper work in his hand to the kids face. “I uh…can’t dream. I had this bike accident as a kid. Hit my head pretty good. Haven’t dreamed since. Til The study.” Jeremy said. Dean questioned him further. “What’d the doc give you?” Jeremy rubbed the back of his head. “This uh…yellow tea. Smelled awful, tasted worse. I had this like super vivid dream. Like a bad acid trip. Super intense. It was so real. You know?” The boy asked. Images of Sam riding him, screaming in ecstasy, the two of them covered in Dean’s blood flashed in his mind. “Totally.” Dean said in a husky voice. He smirked just a bit before shaking his head. His face becoming void of feeling. “I mean no!” Dean said hastily. A voice inside his head shaming him. “That was it. I dropped out of the study after that. I didn’t like it man. It freaked me out.” Dean thanked him for the beer before taking his leave.

Sam walked into the hospital room to find Dean sitting at Bobby’s bedside. He breathed a sigh as Dean turned to face him. “How is he?” he asked. Dean ran a hand down his tired face before he spoke. “No change. What you got there?” he motioned to the file folder Sam was placing on the fold out doctor’s desk at the foot of the bed. He rose to stand next to his little brother as Sam explained. “Well considering what you told me about the experiments, Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense. This plant is African dream root.” He held the picture of the plant up so Dean could see. “It’s been used in Shaman medicine for centuries.”

“Let me guess they dose up, bust out the didgeridoos and start kicking the hacky?” Dean said jokingly. Sam chuckled before continuing his explanation. “Not quite. The legend says it’s used for dream walking. Like entering another person’s dream. Poking around in their heads. But this stuff is some serious mojo. You take enough of it, with practice you can become a real life Freddy Krueger.” Dean’s gaze drifted up to Bobby. “So like killing people in their sleep?” He asked. “Pretty much.” Sam replied. “So let’s say the Doc was testing it out on his patient's. Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit and…” He said before Dean finished his sentence for him. “He goes nighty night for good. Think that’s what's going on with Bobby?” Sam hesitated for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. “If the killer came for him…how come he’s still alive?” he asked. Dean shook his head. “I don’t know.” he replied.

They spoke in hushed tones as they walked down the halls of the hospital. “So how are we supposed to find this homicidal Sandman?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know it could be anyone who knew the doctor. And had access to the dream root. It’s probably one of his patients.” Sam said. Dean nodded his head in agreement. “Man I don’t even know where to start with this. Don’t even know how many subjects he had.” Dean said. Rubbing his temples. Sam sighed as he spoke. “In any other case we’d be calling Bobby for help right now.” Sam’s words stopped Dean in his tracks. He turned to his older brother. “You know what you’re right! Let’s talk to him.” Said Dean. Sam laughed. “Sure…don’t you think it might be kind of a one-sided conversation though?” Dean gave a look that read ‘Seriously?’ before he answered with, “Not if we're trippin on some dream root.”

“You wanna go dream walking inside Bobby's head?” Sam asked. Dean smiled as he answered. “Yeah, I mean maybe we can help you know?” Sam wasn’t feeling it. “Dean, we don’t know what’s crawling around inside there.” Dean shrugged. “How bad could it be?” Sam’s face was serious as he replied. “Bad.” Dean sighed. “Dude it’s Bobby.” Sam nodded as they began walking again. “You’re right. But problem is we're fresh out of African dream root. So unless you know someone who can score some…” Dean’s face went slightly white as he once again stopped walking. The following exchange was. “Shit.” Followed by, “What?” Then Dean, “Bela.” Sam, “Bela? Shit. Are you actually suggesting we ask her for a favor?” Dean shivered as he replied. “I’m feeling dirty just thanking about it but yeah.”

Some time later Sam was sitting in their motel room at the desk doing research. Dean was sitting on the bed tuning the alarm clock radio, attempting to find an acceptable station. The radio DJ’s voice was heard as Dean settled on a station he deemed suitable. “You be just heard the rockin sounds of Kansas’ ‘Carry on my wayward son' right here on Pittsburgh's 99.7 The Noise. Now let’s slow it down with some Steve Miller Band, this is ‘The Joker'.” Music filled the air as Sam felt strong hands comb through his hair, down his neck, stopping on his shoulders. “Some people call me the space cowboy, some people call me the gangster of love.” Dean sang as his fingers began to knead the tense muscles beneath his finger tips. Causing Sam to moan a soft pleased sound.

“People talk about me baby. Say I’m doin you wrong, doin you wrong.” Dean’s voice was like a siren song. His hands working as if with expert skill. Massaging the skin just under his button up until it was relaxed. “But don’t you worry no baby don’t worry, cause I'm right here, right here at home.” Sam tipped his head back, letting it fall against Dean’s stomach, in a trance caused by his brother's gentle croon. Dean chose this moment to slide one hand down Sam’s torso to begin palming his growing jean clad erection. His mouth claiming Sam’s in an upside down kiss. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about the scene from that Toby Maguire Spiderman movie. Dean was unbuckling his belt, chanting his name. “Sam, Sam…Sam.”

“Sam wake up!” Dean shouted from across the room. Sam woke, sitting upright. His hand covered in drool. He wiped it on his jeans as his brother snickered behind him. “Dude, you were out.” He turned to look at Dean. “And making some serious happy noises. You dreaming about me?” Dean teased with a smile. He replied with a false nonchalant voice. “What? No.” Dean was sitting in a chair at the small dining table, tapping a pen against the papers in his hands. “Come on you can tell me if it wasn’t me. Who was it? Angelina Jolie again?” Sam turned to him, his answer to hasty. “No.” Dean’s face was mischievous. “Brad Pitt?” He asked. Sam’s voice cracked as he replied. “No! No. Dude it doesn’t matter.” They spoke this time in unison. “Whatever.” Dean chuckled as he asked, “I called Bela. She said to go get fucked. So why don’t you come over here and help me with this stuff? The Doc’s handwriting is worse than yours.” He motioned to the paper work in front of him. Sam looked down at the noticeable bulge in his pants. “Yeah…uh, in a minute.” He said in a sleepy sounding voice. He cleared his throat. “Why don’t I help you with that.” Dean teased as he rose, walking toward him as a knock sounded on the door. Dean froze, an aggravated expression on his handsome face as he turned to the door. He opened it just a crack, peeking out. He turned to Sam, biting his lip as he sidestepped, flinging the door open behind him. “Bela, as I live and breath.” He said, tone laced with annoyance.

The stunning brunette stepped into the room behind him. “You called me remember?” She said. Dean stepped towards her as he snapped back. “I remember you turning me down.” She smiled in Sam’s direction, her hand fishing around in her purse as she spoke. “Dean! Not in front of your girlfriend.” Sam waved at her using his middle finger. She pulled a jar out, handing it to Dean. “I brought your dream root. Nasty stuff. Not easy to come by.” She said. “Why the sudden change of heart?” Dean asked. She sighed, moving to undo her pea coat. Sam shifted uncomfortably, glaring at her when she turned toward his brother to open it in a slow sensual way. “What I can’t do you a little favor every now and then?” She purred at him. “No You can’t. I wanna know what strings are attached?” Dean boomed at her. Sam smiling to himself when Dean’s gaze never left her face, despite her attempts.

“You said this was for Bobby Singer right? Well, I’m doing it for him. Not you.” Dean was staring at her, utterly unconvinced. “Bobby? Why?” he asked. Her eyes held a genuine look as she replied. “He saved my life once, in Flagstaff.” Dean looked to Sam, silently asking if he should believe her. Sam nodded a yes. She smiled looking from one Winchester to the other. “So when are we going on this magical mystery tour?” Dean stepped across the room. “Oh you’re not going anywhere. I don’t trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head.” He said, opening the safe inside the closet, placing the jar inside next to the demon colt. “No offense.” He said over his shoulder. She smiled at Sam, who was looking at her with apologetic eyes. “None taken. It’s 2 a.m. where am I supposed to go?” She eyed Dean sternly. He spun the lock on the safe, moving to stand next to his brother. “Get a room.” He said. She flipped him off, grabbing her coat, storming out the door.

Sam crossed the floor with two coffee cups in hand. Both containing a gross yellow looking tea mixture. He handed one to Dean who was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Well should we dim the lights? Sync up ‘Wizard of Oz’ with ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’”? He asked, staring at the contents of his cup in disgust. Sam chuckled. “Why?” he asked as he sat down next to his brother. Dean was staring at him in disbelief. “What did you do during college?” Dean asked sarcastically. Sam sprinkled some of Bobby’s hair into each of their cups. “So this is how we control who’s dream we are in.” He said, ignoring Dean’s comments. They shared a few tender kisses, the way they always did before heading out on a hunt. Something that should be romantic, like when couples leave for work. Tainted with unspoken fear for hunters. Going to work could be the last thing you do. They clinked the glasses together before downing the foul smelling liquid. Both of their faces turning green. Resisting the urge to vomit. “Feel anything?” Dean said with a queasy voice. “No…you?” Sam replied in the same sickly tone. “Maybe we got some bad Schwag?” Dean said as he eyed his empty cup.

Sam looked to the window, the sound of thunder outside. “Hey when did it start raining?” he asked. Dean rose from the bed, opening the curtains of the window. The falling water drops running up the window. “When did it start raining upside down?” He said. When he turned back to Sam they were standing in the middle of a living room. A dimly lit area with floral, ivy like wallpaper and tidy furniture. “Ok, so Bobby’s dreaming of better homes and gardens?” Dean said. Sam was looking around. “Wait. Imagine the place with out the paint job. More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place.?” Sam said as he pointed in places where the books should be. “It’s Bobby's house.” Dean said. Taking in the now familiar room. They began searching the house. Calling out the old man’s name. A faint howling sound could be heard over the rain just outside. Sam’s eyes settled on the front door. “Dean…I’m gonna go look outside.” Dean shook his head no. “Stay close.” Sam paced the floor, kissing him gently. “I’ll be fine. We gotta find him.” Sam said to reassure him. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Dean said, watching his brother step out the door.

Sam stepped outside to a bright sunny day, birds chirping. Bobby’s front yard was beautifully gardened. A stone pathway leading up from the driveway replacing the junk cars. The house a stunning fresh paint job of baby blue. The same wicker patio set he and the old man had sat in. Drinking coffee as they watched Dean cutting fire wood. Except the furniture looked brand new, not old and faded. The door suddenly slammed shut behind him. He jiggled the knob. Beating on the locked door. “Dean!” he called out. But no-one came to open it. He stepped across the porch, peeking in the window. Dean was inside the still dimly lit house, even though the sun shone bright outside. He banged on the window. Dean didn’t turn around. He paced down the stairs.

Inside Dean opened the sliding doors that led from the living room to the kitchen. He called out the old man’s name as he crossed the floor to the adjoining hallway that held a closet at one end, a door to Bobby's study on the other. He heard a howling sound coming from the study. “Who's out there?” Bobby's voice came from inside the closet. Dean turned to face it. The door was covered in claw marks. He placed his hand on the knob, leaning in to hear better. “Bobby you in there?” he asked in a hushed tone. “Dean?” The old man’s voice came again. “Yeah! It’s me, open up.” He replied. Bobby stepped out, claw marks cut into his cheek. He sidestepped Dean, back pressed to the wall as he peered into the kitchen. “How the hell did you find me?” Bobby asked. “Sam and I got some of that dream root stuff.” Dean answered. “Dream root? What?” Bobby seemed confused.

“Dr. Gregg, the experiments?” Dean asked in an attempt to remind the old man. Bobby turned to look at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” Bobby asked before turning back to searching the room. The lights flickered. Drawing Dean’s attention. Bobby became fearful. “Hurry! She’s coming back.” he said, rushing back to the closet door. “Who is? What’s going on?” Dean said as he grabbed him. “You know this is a dream right? None of this is real.” Bobby pointed behind him. The sound of the study door could be heard creaking open. “Does that look made up?” The old man said with a trembling voice. Dean turned his head to see a woman in a white night gown step out of the room, three bleeding wounds in her torso. The closet door slammed shut behind them. “Bobby, who is that?” Dean asked. “She’s my wife.” The old man sobbed.

Back outside Sam was looking around the back yard. Finding it just as lush as the front. Radiant spring flowers in full bloom planted along a white picket fence line. A brick sitting area in front of the storage building held a fancy fire pit in the center. Rose bushes were growing up the lattice on the back of the house. It was nothing like the home he’d grew to love as his own. He paced around in confusion. As he rounded the corner of the storage building a man swung a baseball bat at him. He raised his arms in defense just in time to protect his head. Falling to the ground. “Who are you? You don’t belong here.” The man asked. “You’re one to talk. You’re in my friend's head.” Sam said. “Well you got a poor chose in friends. This is self defense. He came after me. Wanted to hurt me.” Sam eyed him as he spoke. “That may be because you’re a killer.”

“Why Bobby? Why’d you do this to me?” The woman asked as she paced closer to Bobby and Dean. “You shoved that knife into me…over and over again.” Bobby stared at her, sadness consuming his face. Dean gripped him by the shoulders. “It’s not real Bobby.” He said as the old man trembled. “You were possessed baby. I didn’t know what I know now. I didn’t know I could save you.” Bobby said. Tears in his eyes. Dean grabbed him, running into the living room as she screamed. The doors slamming behind them, trapping her on the other side. She was screaming like a rabid animal, beating against the doors. Dean leaned against them. “I’m telling you all of this. The house, your wife, it’s a nightmare!” Dean barked at Bobby, holding the doors closed. He ripped the phone cord out of the wall, tying it to hold them closed. “This is a dream and you can wake up.” He said as he finished the knot in the cord. “Just leave me alone and let her kill me already.” The old man said in defeat. Dean gripped him by the front of his vest. “You listen to me. You gotta snap out of this now. I’m not gonna let you die you’re like a father to me. No, you are my real father! Blood be damned. You gotta believe me please! You’re dreaming, take control of it!” Dean said, looking him dead in the eye. Willing him to know how much he meant it. Bobby closed his eyes, concentrating. The screaming and pounding stopped. “Now would you please wake up?” Dean barked.

Bobby shot bolt upright in his hospital room. At the same time back in the motel room so did the Winchester’s.

Dean sat next to Bobby's bed side, sliding him the rest of the Doctor's paperwork as the old man flipped through them. “Hey Bobby…that uh, stuff with your wife? That actually happen?” Dean asked hesitantly. The old man locked eyes with him. “Everybody got into hunting somehow.” The old man said as his eyes drifted to the floor. “I’m sorry.” Dean said in earnest. “Don’t be. If it weren’t for you I'd still be lost in there. Or dead.” Bobby said as he gave a weak smile. Sam walked into the room. “So stoner boy wasn’t in his dorm. My guess is he’s long gone.” Bobby picked a picture up off the fold out desk in front of him. “He ain’t much of a stoner. Names Jeremy Frost. Full on genius. 160 IQ. Which is saying something considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head. Here’s father of the year.” He said as he handed a picture of Mr. Frost to Sam.

“He hadn’t dreamed since until he met the Doc.” Bobby continued. “How’d he get in your dream anyway? Isn’t he supposed to have some of your D.N.A.?” Sam asked. “Yeah…before I knew it was him he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest fucking thing.” Bobby said. Dean shrugged. The way he did when he was embarrassed. “Oh I don’t know. It wasn’t that dumb.” Dean said, licking his lips as he gave a slight chuckle. Sam eyed him. “Dean…you didn’t?” Dean looked at his brother like a child being scolded. “I was thirsty…” Dean replied. “That’s great! Now he can come after either one of you!” Sam scoffed. “Well you better find him fast. And coffee up. Cause the one thing we cannot do is fall asleep.” Bobby said, glancing at Dean.

Two days later Baby’s engine could be heard humming down the road. A very agitated Dean behind her wheel. “This fucking Jeremy guy isn’t a ghost where the fuck could he be?” He snapped. “De…you sure you don’t want me to drive? You seem a little…caffeinated.” Sam asked in a nervous tone. Dean’s head snapped towards him in an accusing glare. “Well thanks for the news flash!” Dean barked at him as his cellphone rang. ‘Thunderstuck' blasting from inside his coat. He fumbled to free it from the pocket. “Tell me you got something?” He yelled into the receiver. “Strip club was a bust huh? That was our last lead.” Bobby said on the other end of the line. “What the hell Bobby!” Dean yelled. “Don’t you yell at me, boy! I’m working my ass off here.” The old man snapped back. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just tired. What’s Bela got?” Dean said. He could hear her on the other end. “Sorry, sometimes the spirit words in a chatty mood, sometimes it’s not.” She said, referencing to the spirit board she was using. Dean hung up the phone, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. “Damn it!” Baby’s tires screeched as he pulled off the road, parking in a clearing. “All right that’s it I’m done.” He said, leaning back, placing his hands behind his head. “What? What’re you doing?” Sam asked in confusion. “Taking myself a long over due nap.” Dean replied.

“Dean you can't! Jeremy can come after you.” Sam yelled out at him. “That’s the idea. We can’t find him so let him come to me.” Dean replied. “On his own turf? Where he’s basically a god?” Sam asked. “I can handle it.” Dean replied smoothly. “Not alone you can't.” Sam stated as he reached over. Plucking a few hairs from Dean’s scalp, earning an “Ow!” from his older brother. He placed the hairs into a water bottle that held a dose of the dream tea. “I’m coming in with you. At least then it’ll be two against one.” Sam said. “No you’re not.” Dean demanded. “Why not?” Sam asked. “Because I don’t want you digging around side my head….” Dean eyed him with something Sam couldn’t quite place. Maybe fear. “Too bad.” Sam replied. Downing the disgusting concoction before there could be further protest.

Sam woke some time later, stretching out as best he could inside the impala. He looked over to see Dean slumped over in the driver’s seat. “Dean?” he said as he tapped him. The older brother springing upright. “What are we still doing here?” Dean asked, his voice all sleepy. “I have no idea.” Sam said. They heard a noise in the distance. “There’s someone out there.” He said as they looked around. The sounds of insects chirping in the night could be heard as they stepped out of the impala. Heading down the path before them. As if coming from speakers in the sky, Doris Day’s ‘Dream A Little Dream Of Me’ could be heard all around them. The clicking sound of a stage light coming on behind them. As Dean turned around he saw their mom sitting on a picnic blanket. Wearing a pretty coral sundress. The fabric stretched out over her swollen pregnant belly. A little Dean running over laying his head down against her stomach.

“Have you picked a name for your baby brother yet Dean?” She said as she ran her fingers through his blond hair. “Sam. Like Grandpa Campbell.” Little Dean said as he placed sweet kisses on her baby bump. Mary Winchester smiled. “I think little Sammy will love that name.” She said with a smile. Dean turned to Sam. “I’ve never had this dream before.” He snapped. Sam approached his side. A look of overwhelming love on his face. Dean rolled his eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.” He barked.

“He’s going to be such a lucky baby boy. To have a big brother like you to love him.” She said before disappearing. The music stopped. Leaving them in the silent darkness of night. “Where’d she go?” He said as Sam turned his head towards the trees. Jeremy stepped out from behind one, taking off running. “Dean.” Sam said as he too started running. In the midst of the pursuit they got separated. Dean froze. Looking around. The trees no longer real. They were wallpaper. The forest had morphed into a long hallway with multiple doors on either side. “Ok…” He said to himself.

He crept down the hallway, the hinges of the door at the end creaking as it cracked open. As he cautiously stepped inside the door he found himself in a version of the current motel room they were staying in. A clicking sound drawing his attention to a man sitting at the desk across the room, their back turned to him. “Jeremy?” he said, slowly approaching. The man didn’t turn around. Just continued to flick the power switch on the desk lamp. The light flickering on then off repeatedly. The clicking sound only seeming to grow louder until with one final click the lamp remained lit. The man in the chair slowly turning his head to face Dean. He was looking at himself. The apparition of himself slowly raising out of the chair. “Hey Dean.” It said in his voice. With his lips. His eyes staring into his own damaged soul.

Dean replied the only way he knew how, sarcastic humor. “Well aren’t you a handsome son of a gun.” He said as he smirked at his own face. “We need to talk.” It said to him. He paced the floor, walking a slow circle around himself. “I get it. I’m my own worst nightmare. I like it.” He said, the two Dean’s circling each other. Watching each other’s every move. Waiting. The way a predator stalks it’s prey. “Joke all you want smartass. But you can’t lie to yourself. I know the truth.” They stopped, facing each other as dream Dean continued. “I know how dead you are inside…how worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror…and hate what you see.” Dean gave a fake half smirk saying “Sorry pal. That’s not gonna work. You’re not real.”

“Sure I am, I’m you.” Fake Dean responded. “I don’t think so. See this is my dream.” Dean said, holding his hand up in clear sight of the fake him. “See all I gotta do is snap my fingers and you go bye bye.” He teased, giving his signature smirk with a nibble of his bottom lip showing that he’s won. He snapped his fingers. The sound sharp in the silent room. Dream Dean watched him in brooding silence. A slight confusion settling on Dean’s face as he snapped his fingers together again 3 more times. Nothing happened. “I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you.” Dream Dean said with a tip of his head as the door slammed shut behind him. The sound of the door locking was an ominous symphony. “Like I said…we need to talk.” It said as it held up Dean’s sawed off shotgun.

Sam too found himself in a similar hallway. The forest morphing into walls covered in posters of Dean’s favorite album covers. A cacophony of sounds echoing out of doors. A mesh of music and voices. Sam opened the one closest to him. The sounds of Warrants ‘Cherry pie’ escaping into the hallway. As he opened the door wide he gulped. The only thing inside the room was a giant Cherry pie the size of a mattress. Sam on all fours in the center of it. Dean thrusting into him from behind. Smearing red pie filling all over Sam’s back before running his tongue up to his shoulders.

Sam slammed the door shut. Shivering as he panted. “What the fuck did I just see…” He timidly walked to a few more doors. Some he refused to open when he got close enough to hear what was happening on the other side. Others he opened to some form of innocence. The two of them driving down the highway, singing along to the radio. The two of them leaning against Baby’s hood, watching the stars for hours in silence. The one thing they all had in common, Sam was in every one of them. As he approached the middle of the hallway he found a single white door. Every other door was black except this one. Nothing could be heard on the other side. Sam gripped the knob with a trembling hand, opening it slowly. Cautious of what lay ahead.

He stepped inside to find himself inside a tidy master bathroom. A moderate sized couples vanity, plain white tub with a simple shower curtain. Soft muffled sounds could be heard outside the open bathroom door. Sam stepped out to find himself in a bedroom. He saw himself laying in the center of a four post oak bed. Except he was different. Older, his hair grown out just past his chin. Dean’s head poking out from under the sheets. Trailing kisses up his chest to his face. “Happy 34th birthday baby boy.” Dean said. The soft wet smacking sounds echoing into the room as they kissed passionately. Dean throwing himself off of him, both of them sighing loudly as the shrill sound of tiny cries burst through a baby monitor on the nightstand. “Damn it! She kept us up all night. I have court today.” He heard himself say. Now having a clear view of the 38 year old Dean he held his breath. He had a scruffy looking full beard. His hair had grown out a few inches. His hands were marked with traces of grease. Dean turned the monitor off before rising out of bed to pull on sweat pants and a tee shirt that read ‘Winchester’s Auto Garage’. “Get some sleep Sammy. I’ll take care of it.” Dean said before kissing him one last time.

He followed Dean out of the room, down the hallway of the house into a room painted pink with wooden Letters spelling out Mary Ellen above a dark oak crib. Dean leaned down picking the baby up, holding her against his shoulder, patting her butt gently. “So fussy. All gassy just like your Daddy. He gave me hell when he was little.” Dean said to the babe. She couldn’t be more than a week old. Sam watched as Dean skillfully laid her down on the changing table adjoining the crib. He’d never seen someone change a diaper so fast.

He watched in tearful silence as Dean walked out of the room, little Mary Ellen on his shoulder again. Minutes passed before he wiped tears from his cheeks, stepping out of the room. He moved down the stairs, finding a large living room adjoining a small kitchen. Dean was currently pouring a cup of coffee while holding a bottle against his chin so the baby could suckle. Dean moved into the living room to settle onto the couch. Two young boys on the floor watching Scooby-doo reruns. Identical twins, both looking exactly like Dean had at the age of seven. “Jared, Jensen! Keep it down. You’re Daddy is trying to sleep. Jared, just because you’re two minutes older doesn’t mean you can bully your brother.” Dean’s bass was gentle, full of love. “Yes Dad.” They said in unison. Dean had just laid the tiny baby girl down in her swing when the sound of a key turning in the front door could he heard.

Jo Harvelle stepped into the room, carrying an insulated cooler bag. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes. Dean took the bag from her as she followed him into the kitchen. He began pulling pouches of frozen breast milk out of it, placing them into the freezer. “How you feeling sweetheart?” He asked as she sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Better. If you two want anymore kids they’re coming from Sam. His little swimmer was much easier on me. Plus you make twins.” She said. Smiling at his back. Dean placed the last of the pouches into the fridge, helping her stand from the chair. “Don’t worry. I think we’re done.” He said as they returned to the living room. The twins waiting with their backpacks over their shoulders. Dean leaned down placing a kiss on both their cheeks. “Jay, take care of your little brother.” He said as he rose to his feet. He kissed Jo on the cheek. “Thanks again for taking the boys to school. Let us know if you need anything.”

Sam watched his brother sleeping on the couch with their daughter for what felt like hours. Crying, smiling, laughing. Completely overwhelmed by Dean’s selfless love for him. Dean’s dreams were Sam's. He’d finished law school. They’d had children. Dean was a mechanic. They lived in a quiet little house in the suburbs. A real family with a normal life. No more monsters. No more hunting. It was to much to take. The baby was waking, stirring on top of his brother’s chest as the dream began to fade away. “No!” he screamed. Wishing to see their faces for a moment longer.

Sam snapped awake in the passenger seat of the impala. Dean sleeping next to him. “Dean….wake up.” He said. Reaching over to give his brother a slight shake. Jeremy turned to face him, slamming the handle of a baseball bat into Sam’s shoulder. Sam opened the car door, falling out onto the ground. Gripping his shoulder in pain as he let out an aching groan. He crawled away from Jeremy as the boy rounded Baby’s hood, the bat resting over his shoulder. “Boy you just don’t know when to quit do you?” Jeremy said. Sam was trying to put enough space between them to get up.

“You’re psycho!” he spat the words at his assailant. Jeremy leaned back against Baby's trunk. “I Just wanna be left alone. So I can dream.” He said, staring down at Sam. “Sorry, can’t do that.” Sam said. “Wrong answer.” Jeremy replied with a smirk. Sam’s body snapped back against the ground. Rope was suddenly felt around his wrists. Tied to stakes, pinning him to the earth. He struggled to free himself. Jeremy loomed over him, stroking the wooden bat. “I’m getting better at this. Stronger all the time. But you and you’re brother aren’t waking up this time. I won’t let you.”

“You’re going to hell Dean. And you won’t even lift a finger to stop it.” Fake Dean said as they began pacing circles around each other again. “Talk about low self esteem. Then again we figure saving a monster like you isn’t really worth it is it?” It said with a malicious chuckle. “Come on Dean wake up.” Real Dean said to himself. “I mean after all you got nothing outside of Sam. And even he can’t fill the emptiness inside you anymore. Little Sammy just can’t seem to keep up with your…appetites. Can he?” It said in a taunting voice.

Dean’s sarcastic grin faded into a stern seriousness. “That’s not true.” He said, his voice flat and monotone. “No? What are the things you want? The things you dream? Your car? That’s Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. The only thing you actually got is Sam. And you fuck him like you want to break him in half. And why? Because you’re a rabid mindless attack dog. Fucking Sam is the only thing distracting you from the fact that you get off on killing anything you can get your hands on.” The fake Dean said in a taunting tone.

Dean scoffed. “You think you know me?” It laughed maniacally. It’s eyes practically growing evergreen with an evil gleam. “Oh I think I do. See because all there was inside there was ‘Watch out for Sammy! Look out for your little brother Boy!’ Until there was me. I am you Dean. That little twinkle in your eye. The madness inside you. The thing your brother sees when he looks at you. When you can’t figure out why he’s looking at you that way. That’s me.” It said to him. Dean tipped his head slightly, a smirk on his face. “Just shut up.” He said.

It closed the space between them. “Dad knew who you really are. A monster. Sam’s figuring it out too. They say you’re coming back bad? You’re already rotten Dean. Daddy’s blunt little instrument. A perverted psycho who likes to fuck your brother until it hurts him cause making Sam scream almost gets you as hard as sliding a knife into someone’s gut. But not quite. You’re gonna hurt Sam. It’s only a matter of time. When you come back…you’ll be the one to kill him.” It said, so close Dean could feel it’s hot breath. Dean snapped, gripping it by the shirt, shoving it back into the desk so hard the wood cracked under the pressure. “You son of a bitch!” he screamed in fury.

“My father was an obsessed bastard!” Dean screamed at the apparition as it lifted up, attempting to land a kick in his gut. Dean jumped back before slamming his fist into its face twice. Swinging so hard he could feel cheek bone crunch beneath his knuckles. It held the shotgun up but Dean ripped it from it's grip. Pressing it against the apparition’s throat, pinning it to the desk. “All that shit he dumped on me about protecting Sam? That means nothing! He’s the one that let mom die! He wasn’t there for Sam! I ALWAYS WAS!” Dean screamed at the top of his lungs, slamming his fist into its face again.

“I love my brother! He is enough. He's everything. I’m the only one who can keep him safe! And if I have to become a monster to do it…THEN I FUCKING WILL!” Dean yelled. Rearing back as he aimed the shot gun. He pulled the trigger. Watching buck shot blast the vision of himself back, blood pouring out of it's chest as it fell onto the desk. It’s head lolling down lifelessly. Dean panted, staring at his own blood splattered face. The apparitions eyes snapped open, gleaming black as soot. It raised up, staring into him as he jumped back. “You can’t escape me Dean. You’re gonna die. And this, this is what you’re gonna become!”

Jeremy swung the bat down repeatedly. Smashing it into Sam’s legs, his side. Kicking him as Sam tried to hold back laments of pain. He steadied the tip of the bat against Sam’s chin. “You can’t stop me. Not in here. I control everything.” He said. Sam’s jaw clinched tight in hatred. “Because of the dream root?” he asked, not making eye contact. “That’s right.” Jeremy answered. Sam smirked. “Well you’re forgetting something.” He said. “What’s that?” Jeremy asked as he raised the bat up, ready to swing. Sam panted heavily. His eyes meeting the boys. “I took the dream root too.” He said. “JEREMY!” An unknown voice echoed in the night.

Fear consumed the boys face as he turned from Sam. Coming face to face with the apparition of his father. “No…Dad?” He said. The man crossing the ground. Moving closer. “You answer me when I’m talking to you boy!” The man yelled. Jeremy was backing away. Consumed with terror as he dropped the bat. Then Sam was up, holding the bat. Bringing it down, smashing the boys skull. His brains spilling out onto the floor. The Winchester's woke with a start back inside the impala. Panting as they stared at each other.

Sam watched his brother sitting at the desk in their motel room. The older Winchester was currently field stripping his colt in an attempt to keep his fidgeting at bay. The alarm clocks radio on the bed side table playing ‘Time’ by Pink Floyd quietly in the back ground. Dean was rubbing a small drop of oil onto the side rails before reattaching the barrel to the slide. His eyes drifting up to Sam as he leaned against the desk next to him. Dean cleared his throat. His nerves getting the best of him.

His voice trembled as he spoke. “Hey Sam, I was wondering. When you were in my head what did you see?” As Dean put the last piece of the gun back together Sam pushed it aside, sliding across the desk. Moving himself so he was sitting on the edge with one leg on either side of Dean. His brother's hands sliding up his thighs timidly as he began to speak. “I saw us. What you want for us. A house. Normal lives. Kids.” Dean’s eyes shifted up to Sam’s, searching for any judgement. He saw none. “De, you’ve never said anything. Your dreams are mine. I…god I love you so much.” Sam said, sliding off the desk to straddle Dean’s hips. Pressing their lips together. Watching Dean’s eyes slowly close. Sam’s hands run down the back of Dean’s head as he softly pressed himself into Dean. Trying to convey the overwhelming love he felt inside.

He broke the kiss. They felt each other’s warm breath on their lips as hands roamed each other’s bodies. “What about you? What’d you see?” Sam asked. Dean placed his lips against Sam’s neck, hiding his eyes by placing gentle kisses there. “Nothing. I was just looking for you the whole time.” Dean whispered. It was a lie, Sam knew. He breathed a sigh of defeat as Dean lifted him up, carrying him in his arms. Walking them over to the bed. Gently laying Sam down. Climbing on top of him as skilled fingers began undressing him. Dean’s tongue tracing a line down his stomach as he worked Sam’s jeans open. Pulling them down, tossing them off the side of the bed. Sam bit his lips as Dean rose to a kneeling position above him. Sam’s own hands running down Dean’s stomach as his arms lifted his shirt off. Letting it slide off the bed to the floor along with his jeans.

They kissed themselves into a frenzy. Tongues battling each other for dominance as Dean ground his hips into Sam's. Precum soaking the front of their underwear. Dean nipped his shoulder, earning a hiss of pleasure from his little brother. “Take them off.” He commanded as his fingers snapped the waist band of Sam’s boxers. Sam did as he was told. Whimpering from the loss of Dean’s body heat as the older man rose from the bed. Dean returned a moment later. Naked with a bottle of lube in hand. Sam watched with anxious need as Dean popped the cap open, squeezing some of the clear liquid onto his finger tips. His emerald orbs staring down into hazel with unwavering authority as he took Sam’s hand, squeezing some of the lube into his palm. “Stroke yourself while I finger you Sammy.” Dean commanded, his voice dark with lust.

Sam gasped at the feeling of cold lube in his warm palm as he grasped his achingly hard length in hand. His eyes locked on Dean's face he began slowly stroking his hand up and down his own cock. He watched Dean biting his lip as he rubbed his fingers tips together. Working to coat them in the lube, warming it. “Spread your legs for me baby boy.” Dean said. Sam gasped as Dean’s index finger began rubbing soft circles against the outside of his entrance. The tight hole puckering with a need to be filled, earning a raspy moan from the older Winchester. He pressed the finger in, past the first ring of muscle. Pushing in to the final knuckle as Sam moaned beneath him. The younger man bending his knees, pushing up onto the pads of his feet. Arching his back. Lifting his ass off the mattress as his head tipped back. His mouth opening to allow cries of pleasure to escape.

“Beautiful.” Dean’s said, more of a moan than a word as he took in the sight before him. Rewarding his brother by sliding a second finger inside him, scissoring them to open Sam's hole. Working the tight entrance, stretching it. All while Sam stroked his own cock. Up and down, giving a slight twist of his wrist to circle around the head. The way Dean did when he jerked Sam off. Precum dripping from the tip. When he slid a third finger inside Sam was cumming on his own belly. Writhing beneath him. Mewling needy cries. Whimpering as Dean pulled his fingers out of him. Then yelping in excitement as he heard the bottle cap open again. He tilted his head up to find Dean squirting some of the bottles contents onto his own length. The huge organ swollen and throbbing in its untouched state. A deep throaty groan bellowing out of him as Dean’s hand spread the lube on himself. Getting it wet and ready for Sam.

“You ready for me Sammy?” Dean asked. Sam shook his head hastily. “Please De. Want you so bad.” Dean leaned down over him, grasping his legs at the back of his knees. Sam gasped, crying out as he felt Dean’s cock push inside him. Breaching the first ring of muscle then sliding in further with ease. Not stopping until he was buried balls deep inside Sam. The older man remaining still until Sam started to buck underneath him. Sliding his hands up to fist in Sam’s shaggy hair he began thrusting. Soft and slow, yet deep and steady. Not fucking. Making love to Sam. Pulling out almost completely then sliding back home.

Sam’s legs locked around his hips, holding him inside. As they touched each other with lips. Kissing cheeks, noses, necks, then finally letting their lips meet. Sam’s hands roaming Dean’s body. Gliding across his shoulders. Down his back to grip his firm ass cheeks as Dean thrust into him. The two of them molding together as one. Until they were both crying out loudly, cumming together. Sam holding Dean down tightly by the hips, feeling Dean’s cum shooting inside him. Dean groaning at the feeling of Sam’s erection twitching between their pressed together bodies. Feeling the hot cum spurting out onto their bellies.

Dean poured his love into Sam for hours. Placing Sam’s legs over his shoulders as he gently plowed down into him. Thrusting forward as he jerked Sam off. Licking Sam’s cum from his finger tips when he came again. Flipping them over to bring Sam on top of him. Letting Sam ride him until he was so exhausted he couldn’t lift himself up anymore. Dean making sure they kept the pace slow and loving. “De please. Want you to fuck me now. Not rough. Just harder.” Sam begged. Dean flipped Sam onto his knees. Thrusting back into him with a sharp snap of his hips. Then pounding into him hard and fast. Bringing them to the big finish. Sam’s knees gave out as he came, screaming cries of pleasure. Dean doubled over onto Sam’s back, his forehead pressed between Sam’s shoulder blades as his finger tips dug into Sam’s hips. Thrusting harshly one last time before his body grew still. Cumming deep inside Sam with a loud husky moan.

Dean lifted his weight off of Sam to pull out of him. Flipping him over onto his back before letting his body collapse down into Sam’s arms. The two of them panting in exhaustion. They kissed lovingly as they came down from the height of pleasure. Dean’s fingers tangled in Sam’s hair as he nestled his head under Sam’s chin. Yawning loudly before drifting off to sleep. Sam lay awake as his mind raced. Gently rubbing Dean’s back as he imagined a baby girl and handsome twins that would never be. Holding back tears as he realized that in less than nine months he would bury his brother. Crying as he breathed in the smell of Dean. That intoxicating combination of leather, cheap cologne, and whiskey. The usual hint of motor oil replaced with gunpowder from cleaning his colt. Tears streamed down his face to wet the pillow case under his head until he drifted into a restless sleep.

The next morning Sam and Bobby walked side by side down the motel hallway. “So you did a little dream weaving of your own in there?” The old man asked. “Yeah. Um, I just sort of concentrated and it happened. You know?” Sam replied. “It didn’t have anything to do with…you know, your psychic stuff?” Bobby asked timidly. Sam stopped walking. “No…I mean I don’t think so.” He said, his face and voice seeming so unsure of himself. “Good.” Bobby said as they resumed, opening the door to the brother's room.

  
They stepped inside to find Dean hanging up his phone. “Hey you guys seen Bela? She’s not in her room and she’s not answering her phone.” He asked. “She must have taken off.” Sam said. Bobby shook his head. “Just like that? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” Dean asked. “Well if you ask me what’s weird is why she helped us in the first place.” Bobby said. The boys turned to look at him. “I thought you saved her life.” Dean said. Bobby’s face was confused. “What the hell are you talking about?” The old man asked. “That thing in Flagstaff.” Dean said.

“That thing in flag staff was an amulet. I gave her a good deal, that’s all.” Bobby said. The boys looked at each other. “You boys better check your pockets.” Bobby stated. Sam and Dean literally started checking their pockets. “Not literally…” The old man rumbled sarcastically. Dean rolled his eyes, turning to look at the closet. “No, no, no.” He chanted as he opened the door of the safe. It was empty. “The colt.” Sam said as Dean slammed the safe door shut. “Pack your bags.” Dean barked. Anger pouring off of him like hot lava.

It wasn’t long before they were sitting in the impala. Sam was waiting for Dean to crank her up but he was just sitting there, staring out the windshield. Dean cleared his throat before speaking. “Sam I’ve been doing some thinking.” He said quietly. “Yeah?” Sam turned to look at him. “And uh…thing is.” Dean said before pausing. Sam waited, sitting patiently. This was going to be big and he knew it. “I don’t wanna die.” Dean said, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I don’t wanna go to hell.” His voice cracked with emotion. His eyes darting back and forth, unable to meet Sam’s gaze.

Sam nodded, reaching over to take Dean’s hand in his. “Ok…well…we know a way. I’ll do it for you Dean.” Dean’s hand squeezed Sam’s tightly. “I don’t like it. Pretty sure I’m gonna like it even less after it starts. But you’re right. We have to be together in this. No matter what happens. I’ll have your back. I’ll keep you safe.” Dean said as his head tilted up to finally meet Sam’s eyes. A serious devotion within the stormy green. “Ok…after we get the colt back. We'll summon Regina.” Dean turned the key in the ignition before he reached over pulling Sam across the seat to lean against him, placing his arm over Sam’s shoulders.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester's find themselves in a situation where they can no longer avoid the inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter was edited by my wonderful new Beta Usagili. Thank you so much for your help with this. I'm sick so I've been slow getting this one out. This chapter is a prompt for joey_winchester. It is my birthday gift to you. Enjoy.

[](https://ibb.co/n3qVXR)   
[](https://imgbb.com/)  


It was supposed to be a simple hunt. Having no luck finding Bela or the colt, always one step behind her. The Winchester brothers had taken on the job of dealing with a small coven of amateur witches, but things were going south fast. The leader of the coven turned out to be a demon. Tricking suburban housewives into selling their souls for the powers of witchcraft. The demon, currently, had Sam pinned to a wall while two of her victim’s dead bodies lay on the floor, taunting him with words. "Sammy Winchester, wow. Right here in our small town. You know my friend’s and I have been looking for you.” She said with a bite of sarcasm.

Rolling his eyes at her, Sam replied, “why? Cause your yellow-eyed friend wanted me to lead his piss poor army? That is...” He taunted with a smirk on his lips, “until my brother killed him.”

“No. Not at all. You’re not our messiah. We don’t believe in you, or Azazel’s fantasies. We serve the true king. And he’s coming soon. The only problem is you. You’re a distraction and bad for business.” She said as she raised her hand with a gesture, that lifted him up off the ground to slide up the wall with her power. “Nothing personal. It’s a P.R. thing. Without you, our god is gonna tear this world apart.” She mocked as she curled her fingers into a fist. Sam could feel an unseen force gripping his throat, choking the life from him. The wall behind him was cracking, caving in from the force of her power crushing him. "He'll never have to know it was me. I'll end you and be gone then no one will be able to stop him. This world will burn.” She said with a wicked grin on her face.

Suddenly Dean burst in through the front door. As he ran into the house aiming with his sawed-off shotgun, she turned, flinging him over the couch in the center of the room. Trying to stand she pinned him to the wall opposite of Sam. When she took in his face, she fell to her knees. “My king, forgive me! I didn’t know it was you! How stupid of me, I should have known.” She begged as she crawled to his feet kneeling before him she kissed his boot, hands splayed out, running up his thighs.

Dean attempted in vain to jerk back, but only succeeded in pressing himself further against the wall. “Don’t fucking touch me!” He bellowed at her.

She backed away in a flash, on her knees, hands pressed to the ground, head dipped down so that her forehead touched the floor, as if in prayer. “Have mercy my king! I should never have tried to harm your consort. His majesty is free to bed whom he pleases. Forgive your humble servant.” She begged groveling before him. Dean was staring down at her in discomfort. Sam was struggling against the wall to draw his brother's attention. Dean glanced up to see Sam silently mouth, “Play her.”

Dean cleared his throat before speaking in a commanding voice. “Put me down.”

She looked up at him. “No! My king, please, spare me.” She pleaded.

“Stop calling me that. And put me down…Now!” He yelled at her. It wasn't working. So consumed by her fear of him that she started mumbling to herself, rocking back and forth on the floor.  
Sam did the only thing he could think of at that moment. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas.” He began the rite of exorcism. She rose to her feet in a flash, holding out her hand to silence Sam. As hard as he tried, he couldn't speak.

“You don’t understand!” She screamed at him while turning her back to Dean. “The ones with sight say your brother will rule with an iron fist. I must kill you both! Yes, that’s it. You both have to die.” She said. She was laughing with utter insanity. “He can’t see my true face yet. No one will ever know it was me.” She paused, fear overriding her victory. "But the others…they know that I'm stationed here. They’ll tell the king. Only kill the one and escape.” She continued. In her panic, she slipped. Completely forgetting about Dean until he was on her. Gripping her from behind and slamming the demon knife into her side repeatedly, as Sam fell to the floor with a loud thud.

“Dean!” Sam yelled. It was as if his brother couldn’t hear him. He just kept stabbing her over and over again, long after the last lightning flash had sparked within her. Until only the sounds were of Dean’s grunting mixed with the wet squishing of the blade sinking into the corpse’s meat was heard. Dean's lips parted, tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip. An act of sensual gratification losing himself in his darkness. Sam rushed to his feet. Grabbing Dean’s hand before the blade sank in again. “DEAN STOP!” Sam screamed at him. Green eyes locked on hazel. Dean's face was a twisted, angry thing. The look in his eye was that of a wild creature the eyes of a murderer. Then turning soft as he took in Sam’s face eyes filling with shame.

“Sammy…I didn’t mean to…I.” Dean whimpered, letting the body fall to the floor.

Sam stared at him with overwhelming grief. Every time Dean had to kill on a hunt, it got worse. The pleasure he gained from it increasing each time. He’d thought Jake had been the worst. That was until the Vamp nest two months ago. Sam still couldn’t think about it. So much blood. The way Dean had looked at him that night. On his knees, covered in blood. Machete still clenched in his shaking fist. The same way the demon inside him had in Regina's vision. He was losing the man he loved. But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t pull Dean back from it. That night when they go to bed Dean was going to flip him over and fuck him without restraint. Hard and primal. It was becoming a pattern. And Sam would let him because a part of him couldn’t resist Dean’s touch. Since John's death…killing had become almost a sort of kink for the eldest Winchester.

"Go…I'll clean this up." Sam barked, breaking eye contact with him. He just couldn't look at him right now.

"Sammy I'm sorry," Dean said in earnest. The only spark of hope Sam still held. Dean honestly held a self-loathing for his actions. He tried to fight it. To be the man his brother wanted him to be, even if it was a losing battle.

"I said go, Dean.” He said, releasing the older man from his grip.

Dean stumbled to the door, stopping at the threshold. “Sam, I don’t get it. Why do you keep doing this for me?” He asked over his shoulder. Sam cleaning up after one of Dean's messes was starting to become a habit. Hiding any trace that the two of them had been there.

Sam sighed. “Because I love you. You’re still my big brother.” He replied sadly. A minute passed as they stood with their backs to each other. When Sam turned around Dean was gone. He'd slipped out without a sound. A silent predator.

Sam pulled the tarp wrapped bodies from Baby’s trunk and back seat. Throwing them into the grave, he'd re-dug of a recently deceased. Pouring salt, followed by lighter fluid over them, and striking a match before throwing it in. Flames erupted out. He watched in silence as they burned. His mind drifting to that night in the nest.

_Sam struggled against the binds that held him to the post in the center of the room. He could do nothing but watch as Dean slaughtered the vampires one by one. Taking in the macabre ballet that was his brother whirling to slice through each of them with his machete. He didn’t miss a beat as one of them caught him in the side with a clawed hand. As he tore the flesh from him, his blood splattered on the floor as he turned 180 to counter, until only he and their maker were left standing, circling each other. Waiting for the proper moment to pounce. It was over moments after the maker lunged. Dean sidestepped it to shove a syringe of dead man’s blood into its abdomen to administer the poison. It stumbled, falling to the floor. Snarling as Dean leaned over it with a smile slicing its head clean off with a single stroke._

_Now Sam was being pulled down to straddle Dean’s lap as he ripped open Dean’s flannel overshirt, buttons skittering across the floor. He tore Dean's tee shirt free to expose the bleeding gash. His hands were shaking as the suture thread pulled through the skin on his brother's abdomen. Reaching up to swat Dean away as he attempted to grab Sam’s ass. “De! Stop it.” He barked. Dean pressed his teeth into Sam’s throat with a hiss as the needle pushed through his flesh again._

_“Come on Sammy. You love it.” Dean whined as Sam shoved him back._

_“Dean stop trying to molest me while I stitch you up. Your bleeding, covered in vamp blood, and we are not doing this here." Sam said as he cut the thread and placed a gauze over the wound._

_Dean was nipping at his neck. His blood covered hands roaming up under Sam’s shirt to play out across his stomach before running around to his back to dip down inside his jeans. Gripping the plump globes of his ass cheeks firmly. Causing Sam’s head to tip back as he moaned. “You’re already so fucking hard.” Dean purred against his throat, feeling Sam’s erection growing against his stomach. Sam fisted the collar of Dean's open button up in a feeble attempt to resist his desire. Sirens sounded in the distance. Dean released Sam with an irritated growl. Moments later they lay down inside the Impala. Parked in a driveway of a neighboring house down the street until the passing cop cars were out of sight before slipping away._

When the flames died, he once again filled the hole with dirt. He never saw the blacked-out SUV parked across the street. Sam was so caught up in worry over Dean’s downward spiral he didn’t see it in the rearview mirror. Following no less than five car lengths behind with the headlights off. Didn’t see them pull into a diner across the street as he pulled into a motel parking lot.

* * *

 

F.B.I. Agent Victor Henrickson watched from behind the wheel of the SUV as Sam Winchester stepped out of the 67 Chevy Impala to enter room number 5 of The Conquistador Motel. Ignoring the loud crunching of his partner, Agent Calvin Reidy, eating chips. “Tell me why we're waiting again?” Calvin asked, speaking with his mouth full.

Victor sighed. “Because he was alone. We need both of them. And we have to wait for back up. As soon as the local P.D. shows up, we will finally have them." Victor replied. He glanced down at the open file in his lap. The Winchester brothers had been a thorn in his side for quite some time. Suspected of multiple cases of B&E, impersonating all manner of law enforcement, and grave robbery just to name a few.

But these things were child's play compared to the event that had landed them on the F.B.I.'s radar? Well, that was all Dean. Two months ago, local police in a small town had made the call. An abandoned house on the outskirts of town littered with corpses and all beheaded except the ones in cages; those had been exsanguinated. Every. Last. Drop. One person's D.N.A had been found that didn't belong to the victims. It wasn’t hard to identify it as belonging to one Dean Winchester. Thanks in part to a drunk and disorderly arrest shortly after his brother started college at Stanford University. Dean, he understood. Reclusive, anger issues, egotistical. The makings of a textbook sociopath.

It was Sam he didn’t get. The boy had no previous arrest record. He was squeaky clean. Excelled in his law classes, made friends easily, seemed to have a clear path in sight for the future. Until his apartment caught fire because of a gas leak resulting in the death of his girlfriend, Jessica Moore. He’d withdrew from classes and skipped town. And nobody batted an eye. Thinking the boy to be in grief, until the police had informed him at the murder scene that two agents had already been asking questions around town about the occupants of the house.

Two things were for sure. One, the Winchester's stayed on the move. Two, they covered their tracks well. If it hadn’t been for an anonymous phone call giving their whereabouts, they’d still be back at the drawing board. He breathed a sigh of relief as two squad cars pulled into the lot.

* * *

 

The moment Sam had walked through the door Dean was on him. Pressing him against the door, slamming it shut behind him, pressing his palm against it on the side of Sam’s head. Crashing his lips to Sam’s. Forcing his tongue into Sam’s mouth with a throaty groan. And Sam molded to him like putty. His arms snaking around Dean’s shoulders, as Dean slid his hands under Sam’s ass. Lifting him up to wrap Sam’s long legs around his waist. Dean’s erection was digging into him while he devoured Sam’s mouth. The two of them groaned loudly as they ground against each other. “Fuck Sammy. Gonna fuck you right here against the door.” Dean growled in his ear earning him an excited whine from his little brother. Sam was succumbing to the temptation that was sex with Dean.

The motel phone was ringing. They froze, staring at each other. The motel phone never rang. Hunter’s never used anything other than personal lines. Dean gently lets Sam down to his feet as he crossed the floor, picking up the receiver to place it to his ear. His expression was growing murderous at the voice on the other end. “Dean? Sweetie are you there?” Bela asked.  
Sam watched as his brother's posture changed from frustrated to cold and calculated. "Where are you?" Dean asked in a monotone.

“Where’s your usual quippy banter? I miss it." She replied.

“I want it back Bela, now!” He demanded.

“Your little pistol you mean? Sorry I can’t at the moment.” She teased.

He shifted on his feet, a sign of pent-up aggression. “You understand how many people are gonna die if you do this?” He asked in a calm voice.

“What exactly is it you think I plan to do with it?” She asked sarcastically.

“Take the best weapon we have against an army of demons and sell it to the highest bidder.” He barked back at her, his tone growing with aggravation.

“You know nothing about me.” She said defensively.

“You're killing my boner bitch. What you say you bring me my colt and I don’t kill you?” He offered.

There was a pause before she said, “Tough words for a guy who can’t even find me. You were getting close though.” She spoke the last part with a slight giggle.

“Oh, I'll find you, sweetheart. Soon. I promise.” He said. His words were threatening.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You're about to be quite occupied." She said. His eyes drifted to Sam who was stepping closer. "Did you think that I wouldn't take precautions?" he heard her say. A puzzled look crossing his face before the door burst open.

Four police officers wearing bulletproof vests, guns raised ran into the room. “Hands in the air!” The first officer to step inside yelled. Sam spun around in surprise, hands slowly rising into the air.

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, as he raised his own hands he quietly cursed, “That bitch!”.

The lead officer was moving closer to him. “Turn around now!” the officer commanded. Two of them gripping the Winchester's by the backs of their shirts, pushing them to lay flat on the floor. Pulling their hands from above their heads behind their backs to place them in handcuffs. The boy’s eyes were lingering on each other as the officer recited their Miranda rights.

A tall African American man in an F.B.I. uniform was stepping into the room. He stopped between them. They both slowly turned their heads to glance up at him. "Hi, guys. Boy am I happy to see you two." Henrickson said with a toothy grin.

* * *

 

Victor rounded the corner of the service desk inside the police station. An overweight middle-aged police officer turned to look at him. “Did you get them?” He asked.

Victor waved his walkie-talkie around pointing in every direction of the room. “Where is everybody? I asked for all your men.” He said, coming to stand in front of the officer.

“And you got ‘em.” The man said.

“Four men? That’s all?” He asked sarcastically.

The man nodded. “Everyone I could drum up in an hour’s notice. This is a small-town Agent Henrickson.” Victor was nodding in annoyance. He stepped past the officer, walking towards the holding cell area. The officer slammed his paperwork he'd been holding down on the desk next to him. He and a second officer following the agent.

Victor stopped before a cell holding a sleeping scruffy looking man. “What’s he in for?” He asked, morning towards the man.

“Drunk and disorderly.” The sheriff replied.

Victor held his hand out. "Keys," he said as the second officer, a tall skinny man, removed them from his pocket to hand them over. Victor opened the cell, stepping in. He tapped the man on the shoulder. “It is your lucky night sir. You’re free to go.” He said.

The man stumbled out of the station. Much to the sheriff’s protest. "Agent Henrickson you can't just release my prisoners!" The sheriff snarled, while he stomped out behind Victor.

"Look I get it. And this isn't how I'd do it if I had a choice. But a tip is a tip, and we had to move fast." Victor said annoyed.

The sheriff still complaining as they re-entered the front of the station. “This ain’t my first rodeo.” He said.

Victor scoffed. “You’ve never been to a rodeo like this before. You have any idea who we're about to bring in here?” Victor asked. A noisy looking black-haired girl was sitting at a desk next to them looking uncomfortable as she overheard the discussion. "Two of the most dangerous criminals you've ever seen before. Think Hannibal Lecter and his half-wit little brother. These guys get their kicks digging up graves and mutilating corpses. They're not just killers sheriff. They’re Satan worshipping nut bag killers.” Victor said. The girl’s eyes turned in his direction. She grasped the cross necklace she wore. “So, work with me here. I’ll get them out of your hair and on the way at to supermax asap.” Victor finished.

The sheriff was giving him an angry stare. "However, we can help.” He said the way people do when they smile through their teeth.  
“Those men of yours. Post them at the exits.” Victor commanded.

"Yes, sir." The sheriff said with a roll of his eyes.

Victor held his walkie to his mouth. The static sound was coming alive as he pressed the talk button. "Reidy, bring ‘em in.” He said. The dark-haired girl nervously typing away at her desk froze. Her eyes were darting back and forth searching the room.

The front doors opened. Reidy stepped inside followed by the Winchester brothers. Behind them two officers holding shotguns. The brother's eyes were scanning the room as they paced the best they could behind the agent. Chains were connected from the cuffs at their wrists down to their ankles, linking them together. Coming to a stop in front of Victor, the sheriff, the tall skinny cop, and the mousey girl. “Why all the sourpusses?” Dean asked with a smile. Sam wore a sympathetic look as he took in the mousey girl’s fear. He glanced down at the nameplate on her desk. Nancy Fitzgerald grew more fearful as she noticed. A supposed Satan worshipping criminal knew her name.

Sheriff Dodd spoke up as she gripped a rosary on her desk. “I’ll show them to their cell.” Sam heard him say, a look of confusion in his eye as Nancy gripped the item.

“Hey, hey! Watch the merchandise!” Dean said as Reidy gripped him by his sleeve, pulling them toward the holding cells. "We're not the ones you should be scared of Nancy," Dean said to her in an attempt to ease her fear. She turned her gaze from them. It was the last thing they saw before a cell door was closing behind them. The stepped apart, assuming the other would move with them. Dean was trying to sit on the small bed, while Sam was trying to stand at the cell door. They stumbled as the chains around their feet pulled tight, causing them to stumble.

“Dean, come on!” Sam growled.

“Alright, alright. Sit?” Dean said. Suddenly they were moving in fluid motion. In sync as if one around each other untangling the chains to plop down on the cot at the same time. “How the fuck did we end up here?” Dean asked. Sam sighed in reply.

Victor leaned against the bars of the cell holding the boys. “You know what I’m trying to decide?” He said when neither of them would look his way.

“Oh, I don’t know, whether Cialis will help with your little condition?” Dean said with a scoff.

“What to have for dinner tonight.” Victor proclaimed with a smile. Sam glanced up at him, placing a hand on Dean’s back to rub gentle circles. An attempt to keep Dean’s temper in check. It was working, for now. “Steak or lobster? What the hell. Think I’ll have surf and turf.” Victor said through his smile. Dean gave him a sideways glance before leaning back into Sam’s touch. The movement was seeming discrete enough that it didn’t seem to draw the man’s attention to its true nature. “I mean I got a lot to celebrate. Seeing you two in chains.” He continued.

“You kinky son of a bitch. Sorry, we don't do other guys.” Dean said, emphasizing the word other.

"Dean." Sam said as a warning.

Victor scoffed. “Now that’s funny.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, I wouldn't bust out the melted butter just yet. You haven't even told us what we supposedly did.” Dean said with a laugh.

“You know you’re right. Two months ago? You remember that Dean? Found your blood at the scene. Didn’t take long to figure out you were the killer thanks to your record. Take a good long look at Sam. Cause you’re never going to see each other again.” Victor said triumphantly as two sets of eyes bore into him. “Aw, where’s that smug smile, Dean? I wanna see it.” He said. Dean turned from him, shaking his head.

"You got the wrong guys." Dean spoke with deadly seriousness. He shrugged Sam's hand from his back. A tell-tell sign that his ability to control his temper was waning.

"Dean." Sam said as if commanding an attack dog to heel.

“Oh? Maybe you got a better reason for why we found your D.N.A in a house full of mutilated bodies?” Victor asked.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." Dean replied.

“Try me?” Victor replied.

“Did anybody happen to check dental records of the bodies? Bet most of them had a serious case of overbite if you catch what I'm saying.” Dean said.

“Is that a confession? So how would you know about that unless you were involved?” Victor asked, feeling his victory in grasp.

“Humans don’t exactly have fangs like that now do they agent?” Dean replied.

“What are you trying to say?” Victor asked.

"Vampires." Dean replied.

Victor let out a bellowing laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. You got serious problems, Dean. No doubt daddy touched you in a bad place. That's all. That’s reality.” Victor said.

Sam stood up from his slouched position beside his brother. Now eyeing the man with the same rage as Dean. "Why don't you shut your mouth." Dean said through his teeth.

"Everybody's got a sob story, but not everybody becomes a killer," Victor said. Helicopter blades could be heard twirling outside as a bright light shone through the small window at the top of the cell. Sam turned to look in its direction. Dean's gaze never left Victor’s. "That's your ride to supermax boys." Victor said with a smile. Laughing as he left the holding area.

"What's he talking about Dean? Record?" Sam asked. Dean sighed rubbing his temples.

"It's nothing, Sam. I just got wasted one night." Dean replied, that night replaying in his memories.

_Dean turned up the volume on his cell phone as CCR's ‘Penthouse Pauper’ hit its chorus. He leaned back against the tomb inside the crypt he was hiding in, taking a large gulp of warm whiskey before peeling his blood-stained button up from his body. Dean poured some of the amber liquid over the gash in his arm with a loud grunt. He picked up the pliers next to him before letting out a few puffs of air. Bracing himself while digging into his flesh, pulling out a small fragment of broken glass. He clumsily stitched together the broken flesh before taping a gauze over it. It was a sloppy patch job. Sam had always been better with these things._

_Thinking of Sam hurt more than the burn of liquor down his throat as he gulped the remainder of the bottle's contents. It’s been almost a month now since his brother had disappeared. Not one call. Only a pamphlet for Stanford University sent to Bobby’s with the words I’m ok scribbled on the back. Dean stumbled out into the graveyard to Baby's trunk pulling a clean shirt over his body before driving to his most recent regular haunt. Ignoring the constant buzzing of John’s missed calls. The man only wanted to know if the Wraith had been dealt with._

_Now he was slouched back on the squeaky leather couch in the back of the local gay bar. Each night for over two weeks he’d come here. He’d request a dance from the same go-go boy. A slender young thing with shaggy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a dimpled grin. Every night he'd convince himself to take the boy home to hate fuck him. Every night he'd stumble out of the place piss drunk but alone. With the hunt complete and pain nipping at his arm he wasn’t feeling it at all. He’d shoved the boy off his lap to the floor with a firm “Piss off.” Before tipping his whiskey bottle in hand up to his lips._

_The boy scampered off clutching his skimpy shorts only to return with two beefy bouncers. “Sir I’m afraid we must insist you leave.” Bouncer number 1 said._

_Dean dropped the empty bottle to the floor. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Just bring me another bottle.” Dean warned with a drunken slur. The man attempted to grab him by the collar. Dean kicked his legs out from under him, placed a heavy boot against the man’s armpit as he held him by its attached arm. He twisted, the pop of bone going out of socket never heard over the thumping of shit music that Dean hated._

_It took three more of them to throw him out the front door on his ass. “You’re lucky we don’t call the cops.” Bouncer number 2 barked at him, laying a massive blow to his face._

_“Why so I can tell them that boy’s underage?” Dean said with a laugh, pointing at the dancer. They slammed the door in his face. Not to be beaten he stumbled to his feet, whipped his flaccid dick out, pissing on the door as the innocent people walking down the street watched. Giving two shakes, licking blood from his bleeding lip. Then gave an “Ahh.” A finger tapped his shoulder. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder to be met with the judgmental eyes of a police officer._

Back in the lobby, a tall man in a nice suit entered the station. F.B.I. Deputy director Steven Groves was carrying a file folder tucked under his arm, a smug expression on his face. Victor held his hand out to him to shake. “Steven.” He said as the file folder was placed in his palm.

"Gentlemen," Steven said as he sidestepped Victor. “I’m gonna go take a good long gander at our prisoners while you get that paperwork done." He said walking off towards the holding cells.

Sam became alert to the sound of a door sliding closed at the entrance to the room. Dean rose from the cot, standing at the cell door. Steven stood before then. Hands on his hips in a relaxed fashion. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I’m Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure.” He said. Stepping closer to the cell door.

"Well, I'm glad one of us feels that way," Dean replied. Steven pulled a gun from his coat, placing the tip of the attached silencer between the bars pulling the trigger. The bullet landing in Dean’s shoulder. Blood splattered the wall behind him as it exited. He fell onto the bed. Sam jumped up grabbing the man's arm aiming the gun high as shots continued to rain in Dean’s direction.

It was all happening so fast. Dean was covering his head while bullets flew around him. Sam grunted as he fought to overpower the man's grip while in chains. Sam took in Steven’s black eyes with surprise. He spoke the holy rite as fast as he could. The demon's head twitched as it fought to stay in its host. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Sam chanted as it growled at him.

"Sorry I've got to cut this short. It's gonna be a long night fellas." It spoke as its eyes bore into Sam. It’s head twitching as it turned to look at Dean. “Your majesty.” It said directly to the older Winchester before black smoke exploded from Steven’s mouth escaping into the air vents with a roar from the host's throat. Steven's body falling to the floor just a Victor and the officers rushed into the room, pistols in hand.

“Put the gun down!” Calvin ordered to Sam who was holding Steven's gun with his hands raised.

“Ok wait ok!” He said slowly lowering the weapon.

“He shot him!” One of the officers yelled.

“I didn’t shoot anyone," Sam said, placing the gun on the floor just outside the cell. “We didn’t shoot him. Ok? Check the body there’s no blood.” He said slowly moving to Dean’s side. Calvin was checking the body, and he looked up at Victor in confusion.

“Vic, there’s no bullet wound.” He said.

"He's probably been dead for months," Dean said, gripping his shoulder.

“What did you do to him?” Victor demanded.

"We didn't do anything to him," Dean said.

"Talk or I shoot," Victor said, aiming at Dean.

"You won't believe us." Dean barked at him. Sam was looking around a bit distressed. He knew the truth sounded crazy, but he had to try. “He was possessed.” He said.

“Possessed? Yeah right.” Victor scoffed.

“Fire up the chopper. We’re taking them out of here now.” Calvin pressed the talk button on his walkie calling out to the pilot. The response was static. “Bill are you there?” Calvin repeated. Nothing but static. Victor tipped his head at him. Calvin jumped to his feet rushing out of the station to the parking lot where the chopper had landed. He drew his gun. Bodies were scattered everywhere. Throats slit open. He stood before the helicopter, bringing the walkie to his mouth. “They’re dead. I think they’re all dead.” He said before the chopper exploded, throwing him back into the pavement. Victor was calling his name over the radio as he sat up coughing up blood he rose to his feet. Calvin felt the presence of someone behind him. He turned coming face to face with the body of one of the corpses. It's slit throat widening in the firelight as it stabbed him.

Back inside Victor, Sheriff Dodd, and Nancy were in the lobby. Nancy proclaimed she couldn’t place a call for help. “All the lines are out. The internet, my cell, it’s all dead.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. Dodd was harping behind Victor’s back about his men outside. Dodd and the lanky officer, deputy Phil, were cocking shotguns behind him when the lights went out. Victor sighed, rubbing his hand down his face to settle against his chin as the clicking of emergency lights coming on was heard. "Oh my god," Nancy said with a slight sob.

“No, it’s ok. We’re gonna go. Right now.” Dodd said to console her.

"Nobody's going anywhere," Victor ordered.

Dodd was fed up. “Your partner is out there! My men are out there!” He yelled in frustration.

Victor faced him. “I know. We go out there we're asking to die too don’t you get it?” Victor asked with a firm tone.

“Get what?” Dodd yelled.

"They're out there, and they're coming in here. This is a siege. So, this might be a good time for you to lock the door and windows. Take a deep breath and maybe deal with this like trained professionals.” Victor said. Dodd nodded in agreement, coming down from his panicked anger. Victor stepped over to Nancy. “You ok?” He asked in a gentle tone. She nodded a shaky yes before a tearful no. "I wouldn't think so. Nancy, I'm gonna get you through this. You got my word. You got that?” He said. She smiled warmly, nodding yes.

Back in the cell, Sam was pressing tissue paper against the wound in Dean’s shoulder. “Don’t be such a wuss.” He said as Dean grunted.

“So, what’s the plan?” Victor said. They both looked at him in confusion. "Kill everyone in the station, bust you two out?” Victor said accusingly.

“The hell you talking about?” Dean asked, confused.

“I’m talking about your psycho friends. I’m talking about a bloodbath.” Victor replied, anger in his voice.

“Ok, I promise you. Whoever is out there isn’t here to help us.” Dean said.

Sam took over. “Look you gotta believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger.” He said, trying to convey the urgency of the situation.

“You think?” Victor said sarcastically.

“Why don’t. Let us out of here so we can save your asses?” Dean suggested.

“From what?” Victor asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “You gonna say demons? Don’t you dare say demons.” Victor said as he held his gun up beside his temple. Struggling not to lose his cool. “Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me.” He barked before walking off.

Sam turned to Dean. “How’s the shoulder?” He asked.

Dean pulled the tissue away to show the bright red blood soaking it. “It’s awesome.” He said with an agitated tone. He let out a groan as Sam checked the exit wound on his back. He looked up to see Nancy watching them. Her head poked out shyly around a corner. “Hey?” Dean motioned towards her with a tip of his head.

Sam paced towards her slowly, hands out showing he was unarmed, doe eyes on full display. "Hey uh. Please, we need your help. Nancy, right? My brother, he's been shot. He's bleeding badly. Do you think you could get us a towel? Please. Just one clean towel?"

She eyed him hesitantly. "Look we aren't the bad guys I swear." He said as Dean displayed a goofy looking smile. She dipped back behind the corner. Sam sighed in defeat.

"Nice try," Dean said with a pat on his back. She returned clutching a towel in her trembling hands.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She crossed the floor slowly as he held his hands out, assuring her it was ok. When she pushed her hand holding the towel through the bars, he gripped her wrist tightly. She screamed.

Phil ran into the room with his shotgun raised. "Let her go!" Sam released her. Both boys put their hands up. She ran away from them her arms crossed her chest in fear. “Try something again. Get shot.” Phil said as he and Nancy slowly backed out of the room.

Dean smacked him on the shoulder. "What the hell was that?" he barked. He chuckled softly as Sam held up her rosary.

Moments later they were sitting on the cot with the towel wrapped around Dean's shoulder. "We're like sitting ducks in here," Sam growled.

"Yeah, I know.”

“How many you figure are out there?”

“I don’t know it’s kinda wild right? It’s like they’re coming right for us. They’ve never done that before.” Sam glanced at him with a slight nod of agreement. “It’s like we got a contract out on us. Think it’s cause we're so awesome?” Dean said with a smirk.

“I think it’s cause they want me out of your way.” Sam sighed.

"I think it's cause we're so awesome," Dean said sticking his tongue out at his little brother. Sam gave him a severe knock it off look. Footsteps were heard as Sheriff Dodd walked into the room.

"Well howdy there Sheriff," Dean said with a fake southern accent as he and Sam rose from the cot.

The sheriff opened the cell doors. “It’s time to go boys.” He said as pointed out of the cell. He advanced on them. They slowly stepped back from him.

“Uh…you know we’re just comfy right here. Thanks.” Dean said.

Victor walked up behind them. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.

The sheriff spoke over his shoulder. “I’m not just gonna wait to die here. We’re gonna make a run for it.” Dodd said. “There’s a swat facility in the next town over.” He added.

Victor stepped next to him. “We're not going anywhere.” Aiming for the sheriff's head, pulling the trigger. Dodd's body fell to the floor as the Winchester brothers launched themselves at him.

They shoved his head into the toilet where the rosary lay. Steam erupted out of the bowl as Sam began speaking in Latin. Phil ran into the room. Dean aimed Victor’s gun at him ordering him to stay back. The demon inside Victor fought, his head raising out of the water. "It's too late I've already called them. It said before Sam shoved its head back in.

“Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.” Sam finished the rite. Black smoke funneled out of Victor’s mouth flying out of the room as his body hit the floor.

Nancy approached with caution. “Is he dead?” She asked.

He began coughing. “Henrickson! You in there?” Sam said, trying to get Victor to focus on him.

He rose to sit on the cot. “I…I shot the sheriff.” He said.

Dean smirked. “But you didn’t shoot the deputy.” He joked. Sam looked up at him with disapproval. His smile faded as he noticed Sam's look.

Victor was looking around confused. “Five minutes ago, I was fine and then…” he said.

“Let me guess. Some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?” Dean said knowingly. Victor just looked at him blankly.

“You were possessed. That’s what it feels like. Now you know.” Sam stated.

"I owe you the biggest I told you so ever," Dean said, holding out his hands to give him back his gun.

Victor rose up to his feet. “Officer Amici, keys.” He commanded. Taking them from Phil before releasing the brothers from their chains. “All right. So how do we survive?” He said to them.

Moments later Sam was spray painting devil’s traps on the floor at every entrance. Dean was in the lobby mapping out every possible door with a red sharpie. Nancy was adequately patching his shoulder when Victor and Phil came in with cases of ammo and guns. They placed them on a desk when Dean scoffed. "Well that's nice, but it's not gonna do much good.”

Phil glanced his way. "But…we've got an arsenal here," Phil said.

Dean looked him in the eye. “You don’t poke a bear with a BB gun. You’re just gonna make him mad. You need salt. Lots and lots of salt.” He stated.

“Salt?” Phil said, looking at him questioningly.

“What? Is there an echo in here?” Dean barked.

"There's road salt in the storeroom," Nancy spoke up.

Dean smiled at her. “Perfect. We need salt in every window and every door.” He gave the order. Victor and Phil ran off to get to work. “How you holding up?” He said to Nancy.

She smiled at him as she placed the last piece of tape on his bandage. “Ok. That should hold.” She said.

“Thank you.” He said with a boyish grin. Phil came back into the room with bags of rock salt. "Hey, where's my car?" Dean asked.

"Impound lot out back," Phil replied. "Wait you're not going out there?"

Dean pulled his sleeve down over his wound, picking his overshirt up off the back of his chair as he stood. "Yeah. I gotta get something out of my trunk."

Dean raised Baby's trunk up as he grabbed his weapons bag. He placed his sawed-off inside his shirt before grabbing the demon knife, salt rounds, a bandolier full of salt shells, and a few other items. He heard sounds of electricity surging mixed with a gust of heavy wind. He glanced over the open trunk to see a storm of black smoke rolling his way. He grabbed a leather pouch, shoving it into the bag before closing the trunk and rushing back inside the station. The others inside were finishing up placing the salt and devil's traps as he just inside. "They're coming!" he yelled. They gathered in the center of the lobby. He tossed a shotgun to Sam just as the wave of smoke began pounding on the doors. The Windows going black, all light from outside disappearing, leaving them in the dark. The only light the few feeble emergency lights. The building shook with the rumble of demons trying to find a way inside. Until there was silence. The moonlight once again shining through the windows.

“Everybody ok?” Sam asked.

"Define ok," Victor said.

Dean pulled the leather pouch from his duffle bag. “Ok everybody needs to put these on. They’ll keep you from getting possessed.” He said as he took out a necklace with pendants of the anti-possession symbol hanging from them. He handed one to each of them before moving to stand next to Sam.

"What about you and Sam?" Nancy asked, concern for their safety in her tone. In perfect unison, they pulled down the collars of their shirts to reveal their matching tattoos.

“Smart. How long you had those?” Victor asked.

Dean rubbed Sam’s arm comfortingly as Sam seemed to stare off into nothing. "Not long enough," Sam said, clearing his throat. They all pulled the necklaces over their heads.

Dean watched as Victor ran a hand over the sheriff's nameplate on his desk. Guilt consumed him. Nancy was looking out the window when a small army of people walked up, eyes all black. "Hey, that's Jenna Rubner.” She said, seeing her friend stepping to the front of the pack.

Sam came to stand next to her. “Not anymore.” He replied, trying to count the bodies.

“That's where all that black smoke went?” She asked.

“Looks like.” He replied. Phil was looking out a fogged window in the snack machine area. He stepped up, wiping the glass to peer outside, unknowingly breaking the salt line.

“Shotgun shells full of salt?” Victor said as he tossed one up in the air just to catch it in his palm.

"Whatever works," Dean replied to his question as he loaded his sawed off.

"Fighting off monsters with condiments," Victor said with a scoff. "Turns out demons are real." He added, throwing his tie down onto the desk.

“F.Y.I. Vampires are too. And ghosts, werewolves, changelings, evil clowns that eat people.” Dean said as Victor eyed him.

“Ok then…” Victor said, placing shells into his bandolier.

"If it makes you feel better big foot's a hoax," Dean said with a smile.

“It doesn’t,” Victor tells him. Dean cocked the guns he’d been loading as he rose to stand next to Victor. “My job is boring. It’s frustrating. I worked 15 years to nail a few guys and all the while something so big was just sitting there in the corner.” He said with an apologetic tone.

"You didn't know," Dean said understandingly.

“What’s out there. So, can you guys beat It? Can you win?” Victor asked.

Dean sighed. “Honestly…I think the world’s gonna end bloody. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swinging.” Dean said with a smirk.

“Plus, you got nothing to go home to but your brother," Victor said.

Dean chuckled. If this guy only knew. “Yeah. What about you? Rockin the white picket fence?” Dean asked, trying to shift the conversation away from him and Sam.

"Mm-hm. Empty apartment, a string of angry ex-wives. I’m right where you are.” Victor replied. They laughed together.

"Imagine that," Dean said. The sound of glass shattering drawing them out of their binding moment. The brother’s and Victor burst into the snack room guns aimed.

“How do we kill her?” Victor asked. Sam and Dean lowered their weapons.

"We don't," Sam said.

“She’s a demon!” Victor stated as Sam pushed the barrel of his gun down to aim at the floor.

“She’s here to help.” He said as he walked up to Regina.

“You gonna let me out?” She asked, breathing heavily. A small cut on her forehead was bleeding. Sam leaned down, scraping the spray paint to break the line. She stepped out, walking past them, glancing at Dean as she passed. “Dean.” She said before stepping into the lobby. The others followed her after Sam fixed the trap as well as the salt line.

“How many of them are out there?” Dean asked her.

“I’d say 30 at least. So far.” She said as she sat down in a chair, elegantly crossing her legs.

“Oh great. 30 hit men all gunning for us. Who sent them?” Dean asked.

She gave him a look that said ‘really?’. “Lilith. She wants Sam dead. You too big boy. We'll need the colt. I got bullets for it.” She said with a wink, tossing an ammo pouch to Dean.

The boy’s hesitated. "It got stolen," Sam said. She eyed them. “I’m sorry, what?” She said.

“What do you mean me too?” Dean asked.

She was pacing the floor. “It’s Lilith. She thinks if she takes out Sam she can send you to the pit ahead of schedule. Believes you will forgive her because she sees it as a way of helping you take the throne sooner.” She said.

“Whoa. What did we miss?” Victor said, eyeing the Winchester's.

"Really, Dean? A hoard of demons at your doorstep and you didn’t think to tell your new friends you’re the only one that would be allowed to walk out of here alive?” She asked sarcastically.

“I’m not their fucking king. I don’t want any of it.” Dean barked.

"What's going on?" Victor yelled over at them.

Regina sauntered over to him, her red eyes staring at him. "Tell them, Dean."

Dean stared at the floor, shame in his voice. “Sam died…and I couldn’t.” He choked up slightly. Looking to Sam for strength. “I sold my soul for his life. And now…” He couldn’t say it. Not to strangers.

“And now when Dean goes to hell he’s coming back. With black eyes and stronger than all of us combined. Rex Inferorum.” She said, the red glow of her eyes returning to brown.

Victor stared at Dean. “Rex Inferorum? What is that?” He asked.

“Latin. It means king of hell.” Sam said, his eyes never leaving Dean's. “But I’m going to stop it. That’s never going to happen.” He said as a promise to Dean.

“Which brings us to the current situation. We need to put our plan into motion. Now!” Regina said looking from one Winchester to the other.

Dean was shaking his head. “No, not here.” He said.

“Relax Dean. Give him some credit. I’m sure he’s not going to jump your-"

Dean interrupted her. “That’s private. Not here.” He bellowed.

“Well, There's only one other way to get out of this. I know a spell. It’ll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius. Including me.” She said.

Dean rose to his full height from the desk he was leaning against. "Ok, what do we have to do?" Sam said.

“Aww. At least one of you gives a shit about me. You can’t do anything. The spell calls for a person of virtue. A virgin.” She said.

Dean laughed. “Sweetheart nobody’s a virgin.” He stated as fact. Her eyes slowly drifted to Nancy, who was in the corner, not meeting their eyes. Dean gave her a surprised look. “No. No way. You’re kidding me.” He stumbled the words out.

“What? It’s a choice.” Nancy said in her defense.

“Wait…so y-you’ve n-never…not even once?” He said, slightly embarrassed. “I mean not even…wow.” He said, giving her a proud look.

Regina rolled her eyes. “Surprised a cherry hound like you couldn’t sniff her out.” She said to Dean as her eyes drifted to Sam mockingly. “You’ve had quite a few in your day haven’t you Dean? Poor things. Only one of them seemed to sink their claws in enough to keep you coming back ain’t that right S- Ouch.” Dean had kicked her in the calf to shut her up.

“The fuck is it with you demons? Why you always gotta bring it up?” He barked at her. Victor’s eyes were darting back and forth. He was close to putting it together. The others seemed oblivious. Sam sighed.

“So, this spell? How can I help?” Nancy chimed in eagerly. Regina rose to stand in front of her. “You can hold still. While I carve your heart out of your chest.” She said like it was nothing.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” Sam said as he advanced on her.

“I’m offering a solution.”

“You’re offering to kill somebody.” He said, placing himself between them.

“What do you think’s gonna happen when the demons get in?” She snapped at him.

“We're gonna protect her that’s what.” Victor chimed in.

“Very noble. Look you know why I’m loyal to you Dean and Sam comes with that, but you're all gonna die unless you make a choice.” Regina said. Everyone started yelling except Dean.

Nancy quietly spoke up, “Excuse me," trying to be heard over them. “Would everybody please shut up!” Nancy screamed over them. The room fell silent. “All the people out there? Will they be ok?” She asked timidly.

Regina nodded. “It’ll blow the demons out of their bodies. So, if their bodies are okay then yes.”

Nancy gave a tearful nod. “I’ll do it.” Victor and Sam were yelling hell no. Dean remained silent.

“Dean, you know I’m right.” She said to him. Sam eyed him, seeing that darkness once against showing its ugly face behind his emerald eyes.

“De…let it go. That’s not you. We don’t do this.” Dean’s eyes shifted to his. He said nothing.

“It’s my choice," Nancy said.

“Stop! Everybody Stop!” Sam yelled. “Dean a word please?” He said as he gripped Dean by the front of his shirt to pull him into the hallway. “Please tell me you’re not actually considering this. We’re talking about holding that girl down and cutting out her heart.” Sam questioned.

“I won’t have you drinking her blood in front of all these people. And I’m not gonna let that demon kill some nice innocent girl who hasn’t even been laid. So, what other choice is there?” Dean barked.

“I’m not saying I want to. We don’t even know what’s going to happen to me when I…when we start this. But it’s the better option.” Sam declared.

“I got a plan. I'm not saying it's a good one, or that it'll even work. But it sure as hell beats killing a virgin. And that other shit…that’s private. We aren’t putting our shit show on display for the world to judge us.” Dean stated with finality.

“Ok, so what’s the plan?” Sam asked with a nod of approval.

“We open the doors, let ‘em all in. And we fight.” Dean said.

Regina glared at the Winchester's while they explained their plan. Tapped her foot in aggravation while the group scurried about, setting everything into motion. Rolling her eyes as the boys stood before her in the lobby. Sharing a moment of understanding that they both may not make it through the night. Unable to perform their pre-hunt ritual of tender kisses. Settling for a brotherly hug that was lasting too long. “You mind letting me out of here?” She said with a tinge of venom.

“You’re just gonna leave?” Questioned Sam.

“I was going to kill myself to help you win. I've blacklisted myself from all of my kind to help you save your brother from hell. I’m not going to stand here and watch you lose.” She said, bitterness mixed with anguish in her voice. "I really tried for you, Dean. If you ever find me when you rise you might as well kill me. I won’t watch you ruin everything you loved.” She snarled.

Sam advanced on her. Dean reached out to stop him with a hand on his chest. "Why are you so obsessed with my brother? It’s like you’re hot for him or something.” Sam spat.

"Sam let it go," Dean spoke calmly.

She laughed out loud with sarcasm. She stared at Sam with disgust. “Just let me out.” She said with a fake smile.

“Why can’t you just snap your fingers and fuck off?” Dean asked, coming to Sam’s defense.

“If we can’t get in we can’t get out. Did you really think it didn’t work both ways?” She snapped. They led her to the window shed snuck in from, breaking the trap along with the salt line, replacing it as soon as she'd crawled out. Looking up to hear her fingers snap. She disappeared into the night.

Everyone inside worked to break the warding at the doorways. All that remained was salt lines. Standing at the ready Dean yelled out to Sam across the station. “All set?” Sam’s tenor sounded from across the hall.

“Let’s do this!” Dean yelled. Sam, Dean, and Victor all simultaneously broke their salt lines. There was a moment of the calm before the storm as each of them backed away from the entrances. Shotguns raised, poised to defend. The first attack came at Victor. A Demon leaped in to swing from the door frame, landing a kick square to his face. He fell back, the force of the blow stunning him. He accidentally pulled the trigger, rock salt blasting out into the ceiling to miss its target.

Dean landed a shot in the shoulder of the first attacker, sending her falling to the floor. He was ready when the second came, taking it down before retreating further down the hallway. Sam landed a shot at the first, only to be taken from the side by a second. Victor was pinned to the wall by his assailant as more of them ran past him. He pulled a flask from his pocket, pouring holy water on its face to break free. Picking his gun up he bumped into something; he was back to back with Dean. They reloaded fast. Dean covered him by firing a shot over Victor's shoulder. "Go go go!" Dean gave the command.

Sam was being swarmed in the lobby. He fought back, landing swift punches to the two that tried to overpower him. All his sparing with Dean drills John had forced them to run coming out in battle. He was evenly matched.

As the last few demons entered the station, Phil and Nancy poked their heads out from their hiding place upon the roof. "When this is over, I'm gonna have so much sex." She said. He looked at her with shock. "But not with you." She added.

He chuckled. “Please, sweetie I call dibs on the tall one.” He said with a wink. They shared a smile before moving into action, closing all the doors one by one to lay down fresh salt lines on the outside.

Four demons were now trying to take Sam down as more funneled into the lobby by Dean and Victor. He trashed them with holy water from a canteen. Dean was suddenly back to back with him. They were surrounded. He made a final attempt to hold them off. “I’m your king! I command you to stop.” The demons shared glances of uncertainty. The one in Jenna’s body jumped up onto a desk, flinging the Winchester's back pinning them to a wall with a flick of her wrist.

The others kneeled before them while she held them in place. “Rex Inforerum.” They began chanting.

“Henrickson now!” Dean screamed.

Victor ran into the storeroom, throwing a demon off his back by slamming it into weapons cabinet. He reached out, slamming down the play button on a tape recorder rigged up to the station's intercom system. Sam’s voice was heard over the speakers reciting the holy rite. The demons screeched in pain, their hands covering their ears. Outside Nancy was pouring salt at the foot of the final door when it burst open. The demon with its throat slit bursting out as she screamed. It looked at her hesitating for a split second before turning tail to escape. Phil rushed to her side, taking the salt bag to finish the line.

Inside the demons trashed, screaming in pain. Beating on the doors, unable to escape. A sea of black smoke funneled from their host's bodies, swirling around the ceilings. There was nowhere to go. The smoke collecting in the center of the lobby turned to a violent storm. Sam locked eyes with Dean. They tried with all their might to reach their hands out to each other. Fingers splayed open in need of the other. As Sam’s recorded voice spoke the final verse the swirling mass burst into flame, burning out in a flash. The brothers fell to the floor panting. They groaned as the helped each other to their feet.

Victor stepped into the room. He wiped the blood from his lip before smiling at them. The lights came on as the people all around them began to stir looking around in utter confusion. Once the group had helped the citizens to their feet and out the door, Victor turned to the brothers. "I better call in. Hell of a story I won't be telling.” He said.

Sam gave a look of concern. “So, what are you gonna tell them?” He asked hesitantly.

Victor smirked. "The least ridiculous lie I can come up within the next five minutes.”

Dean scoffed. “Good luck with that. Not to pressure you or anything but what are you planning to do about us?” he said.

"I'm going to kill you," Victor said with a serious face. Dean gave him a look of surprise. "Sam and Dean Winchester were in the chopper when it caught fire. Nothing’s left. Can’t even identify them with dental records. Rest in peace guys.” Victor stated with a nod. The boys gave him thankful smiles the mutual feeling of respect on all their faces. He shook hands with both of them before saying, “Now get outta here.” The boys waved goodbye to Phil and Nancy before taking their leave.

* * *

 

Victor was sitting on the edge of one of the desks in the lobby. Mulling over where life would lead him now that he knew the truth of the world when he heard Nancy speaking. "Oh. Hey there." She said with a broad smile as she leaned on the broom in her hands.

A little girl stepped forward, letting go of her mother’s hand. “Excuse me. I’m looking for two brothers. One’s really tall, and one’s really cute.” The little girl said in a voice sweeter than sugar. Victor turned to glance at her over his shoulder.

Nancy gave a hearty chuckle. “What’s your name sweetie?” She asked.

“Lilith.” The girl replied in monotone as he eyes rolled back into her head, revealing blank white orbs. Victor barely had time to react, running around the corner of the desk, before the girl held her hand up as if to stop him. A blinding bright light burst forth from the girl as everything went black around him. The only sounds were agonizing screams. Followed by silence.

* * *

 

Sam woke to the sound of knocking on their motel door. He rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes locked onto Dean's. The older man rose from his place at the small table to answer the door. Regina sauntered in with an angry expression. “Turn on the news.” She said, arms folded across her chest.

Sam clicked the power button on the remote control. The static sound of the television sparking to life was heard before the voice of the reporter. “The community is still reeling from the tragedy that a struck just a few hours ago. Authorities believe a gas main ruptured, causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside.”

Dean sunk down onto the edge of the bed next to Sam. “Among the deceased, at least six officers and staff. Including sheriff Melvin Dodd, deputy Phil Amici, and Secretary Nancy Fitzgerald. As well as three F.B.I. agents identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henrickson. Two prisoners in custody were also killed.” The boys wore faces of anguish.

Sam clicked the TV off. "Must have happened right after we left." He said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“Considering the size of the blast, smart monies on Lilith," Regina said as she tossed them two velvet bags. They caught them one-handed.

“What’s in these?” Dean asked.

“Something that will protect you.” She replied. “I’m sorry. I know you tried to save everyone, but your plan was a bust. It turns out one of them got away. He led her straight to them. I know it sounds cold, but you can’t win this battle thinking like hunters. It’s time to make a move or stop wasting my time.” She said. Placing her hands on her hips. Sam took in the sight of her. Her white Prada blouse clinging to her curvy figure, tight fitted matching pencil skirt, black leather stiletto pump tapping the floor. Its true, the devil does wear Prada. Sam hated her. But she was right.

“We're ready. But Dean has rules.” He stated. She ran her fingers through her long dark hair.

“What are your terms?” She asked with a roll of her eyes. Dean tossed a canteen at her. She caught it clumsily, taken off guard. Stumbling on her pinpoint heels before pulling the edge of her skirt back down with a “Hm-mm.” sound.

“Sam never drinks straight from you. You can put it in that. You’re not allowed to be around when it happens. You share every vision that has one of us in it. And you always come when we summon you.” Dean spoke with a dark sternness. He held out a small pocket knife for her.

She twisted the cap off the canteen, taking the knife. She slit her wrist, holding the lip of the bottle to her arm. Smirking at their mutually distasted looks, as the bottle filled. Her wound healing instantly as the red liquid rose to the top. She twisted the cap back on, tossing the canteen to Sam. “Start slow. Only one sip at a time. Don’t succumb to the cravings by bingeing. You becoming addicted is a sign that the future path is being followed. Let Dean help you…” She paused before adding, “Curb your appetite.” She gave a knowing wink before disappearing with a snap of her fingers. The pocket knife fell to the floor.

The Winchester's sat side by side on the bed in silence. One hand on each other's knee. "De, I'm nervous," Sam confessed.

Dean cleared his throat. “Me too baby boy. But whatever happens, I'm right here. We're in this together." Dean said with a warm smile. Sam twisted off the cap with a grievous sigh. Dean held his breath as Sam pressed the lip of the bottle to his lips. Sam tipped it up, letting a mouthful flow inside. He screwed the cap back on swallowing hard. “Ugh…” He gasped out. Trying not to gag at the coppery taste and thick texture.

Dean popped the caps off of two beers he'd been holding before handing one to Sam. They both guzzled them down. Sam let out a loud belch as Dean burst out laughing. "You gonna pull through there Sammy?” He joked.

Sam grimaced. “It tastes like hot garbage.” He replied. They laughed together for a moment. Their eyes met in a deep gaze.

“You feel anything?” Dean hesitated to ask.

Sam shook his head. "No. Normal I guess. Kinda dirty." The older man sighed in relief before gently kissing Sam's forehead.

“Come on, let’s get you a bath.” He said as he gripped his little brother's hand to pull him to the bathroom.

* * *

 

Dean stirred in his sleep at the sound of giant wings flapping. He rolled from his back onto his side. Snaking his arm around Sam's waist, pulling his brother into his protective hold as he nuzzled into Sam’s neck. Blissfully unaware of the two men standing at the foot of the bed. The shorter of the two, a handsome man with dark hair, vibrant blue eyes, dressed in a business suit, stared at the sleeping brothers with anguish. “Why Uriel? I don’t understand. How could father allow this? He is to be the instrument of heaven.” He said, though his lips did not move. His voice ringing inside his companion’s skull like telepathy.

“It is not for us to question orders from our better’s brother," Uriel replied.

The dark-haired man’s head tilted to the side, gaze bearing down into the Winchester's. “This isn’t what the scribe has written. This human is a righteous man.” Blue eye’s stated.

“The prophet has written it, so shall it be. They are yours to watch over now. Tread lightly, brother. Lest your wings meet the same fate as the one before you.” Uriel spoke before disappearing with the sound of wings fluttering.

Blue eye’s stared at them for what felt like hours. Trying to understand the path that had been prophesied. This human was a man without sin. The other was an abomination. How had the tables turned to lead one of the Lord’s sheep into the pit to become a monster? This man was to save the world, not lead it to ruin. Dean woke from his sleep at the sound of wings fluttering. He pulled his colt from under his pillow, rising to aim. He looked around the room. Nothing was out of the ordinary. He stretched, giving a big yawn before snuggling back up to Sam. Drifting back to sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys spend some time together at Bobby's. Sam makes bad choices. Ellen begs them for a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit of time. I had a bit of a struggle getting through this chapter. But it's finally here. Special thanks for my wonderful beta Usagili. Hope you guys like the chapter.

[](https://ibb.co/n9Af3x)  
[](https://imgbb.com/)  
The Winchester brothers sat on the couch in Bobby's living room watching with wide-eyed grins as the old man danced around with Ellen as Redbone's ‘Come and Get Your Love’ played on the radio. Sam jumped up from the couch swaying his hips to the beat as he reached out a hand to his older brother. “Oh, no! No, no.” Dean chuckled out his protest. Sam summoned him forward with a finger as he mouthed the lyrics of the chorus. Dean rose from his seat to join them thinking, what the hell. 

 

Ellen and Bobby were currently doing a rendition of the jitterbug, while Sam was doing the hand jive. Ellen and Sam let out a “Woo-hoo!” as Dean moonwalked in front of Sam finishing his entrance with a perfect impression of the Elvis leg swing move. They all laughed together as they settled on doing the twist. The boys smiled warmly at each other sharing small touches as they moved. Dean gave a confident smirk as he busted out the James Brown shuffle. Sam laughed heartily before showing his brother up by doing a perfect cat daddy. 

 

Dean froze as he watched Sam drop low then bounce back up to make the wheelchair motion of the dance. Unaware that he wore a look that read ‘What the fuck?’. Sam shyly ran his fingers through his hair, face tipped down, eyes rising to meet Dean. “I uh…learned that in college." he said with slight embarrassment. Bobby and Ellen laughed as the radio transitioned into Sam Cooke’s ‘Bring It On Home To Me’. Sam placed himself in Dean’s arms, gently swaying to-and-fro. Dean shifted nervously on his feet as the older couple came together in a slow-motion spin. Sam sighed heavily Dean didn’t slow dance, ever. 

 

Sam pulled Dean by the hand towards the stairs, Dean’s hands on his hips as they moved. Bobby turned to see them. “Balls,” he said with a sigh. Ellen laughed, reaching over to turn the volume dial up. Once they reached the top Sam could barely keep his hands off of Dean. Already making fast work of his belt. His hands moved to pull Dean’s fitted black t-shirt up. His actions halted by Dean gripping his wrist, pressing Sam against the wall. “Easy baby boy, let’s get in the bedroom first.” Dean cooed, nuzzling against Sam’s neck. Their lips locked as Sam stepped back towards the door, pulling Dean with him by the fabric of his shirt. 

 

Sam’s kiss was full of hungry heat. Dean groaned deep in his throat as Sam’s tongue slid past his lips, demanding entry. The sound of the doorknob turning seemed loud as Dean was pulled into the room to be shoved down onto his back on the bed. He couldn’t help but wonder if his little brother’s sudden aggressiveness was a side effect of drinking the blood. “You will crave your brother much more violently than you do now,” Regina’s voice echoed in his head, “Let Dean help you…curb your appetites.” It’d been just over a month since the first time Sam had drank demon blood. He’d ingest a small amount every day, but nothing had seemed to happen yet. No visions, no new powers.  

 

Was Sam’s sudden eagerness for sex the first sign that it was affecting him? Dean buried his thoughts as Sam began pulling the zipper of his jeans down, yanking them off along with his boxer briefs to let them fall to the floor before straddling his hips. It wasn’t like Sam had never initiated sex before. He was a man. Men have needs. Sam’s lips were wrapped around the head of Dean’s erection, bringing about the end of conscious thought. Dean tipped his head back into the pillow beneath him. Neck arching as his jaw dropped open, allowing primal moans to escape his throat. His fingers were fisting in Sam’s shaggy mane to urge Sam’s head into a bobbing movement. 

 

Sam’s hands splayed out over Dean’s thighs. Fingers were digging into the flesh, kneading it as he allowed Dean to take control. Soft hungry little moans escaping his full mouth as Dean’s grip tightened, focused on keeping up his smooth, steady rhythm until Sam’s nails were digging in as Dean gently, thrust up into the heat of Sam’s mouth, cumming down his throat. Deep lustful evergreen eyes gazed down at Sam’s tongue flicking around the head for the last pearls of cum. He leaned up, placing Sam’s chin in his palm to pull his little brother up onto his lap. They kissed feverishly as Dean’s hands ghosted Sam’s shirt up his frame, dropping it to the floor before moving to the button of Sam’s jeans.  

 

A ripping sound could be heard over Sam’s impatient whimpers as he tore Dean’s t-shirt open. Dean hissed loudly as Sam’s nails dug into the meat of his back, dragging down to leave whelps in their wake. “Whoa, easy tiger.” Dean cooed sweetly against Sam’s lips with a grin. Sam shoved Dean back into the mattress as he shimmied out of his jeans and underwear. Dean had barely shaken out of the remnants of his shirt before Sam was back on him, once again sucking him off with vigor. “Fuck Sammy, slow down.” Dean pleaded as he pulled his brother up to attempt a gentle kiss. What he got was Sam biting his lip harshly. There was a slight pop sound followed by a sharp sting of pain and Sam was moaning loudly.  

 

Dean shoved him back his worried eyes searched Sam’s own as a trickle of blood ran down from his bottom lip. Sam’s stare was sensual yet ominous. It felt as if he were daring Dean to question him. A moment passed where they just stared at each other. Sam leaned forward, eyes on Dean’s lips. Dean dipped back avoiding Sam. Sam leaned forward again, gripping the back of Dean’s head to hold him in place. He pressed their lips together, sucking Dean’s bottom lip in between his own. Pulling Dean’s blood into his mouth with sounds of urgent need. They struggled against each other. Dean was trying to pull away, Sam holding him in place while pressing their erections together, grinding against Dean. 

 

Dean flipped them over, pinning Sam beneath him. Wiping the red smear from his lip as Sam licked it from his own. “Fuck me De.” Sam sighed out, stroking his erection. He leaned up to lap up the last drop of coppery red from Dean’s lip.  

 

Dean shoved him down harshly into the mattress. “Sam, stop!” Worry ate away at Dean. God knows Sam could seduce him into doing all manner of filthy things to him that Dean was pretty sure were illegal in most states. Sam was usually eager to take Dean’s tough love, as it was, with no complaint.  

 

But, the way he tried to take control so aggressively was unsettling for Dean. Then there was the blood thing. Dean was far from squeamish, yet the act had left a sort of sickness in his stomach he desperately wanted to shake off. Bringing forth the image of Sam riding him with Dean’s bleeding wrist pressed to his lips. His own voice alien to him as the most maliciously evil laughter burst out of his toothy grin as he lay in the wet sticky redness that marred the sheets beneath him. 

 

 As Dean shook off the sickening memory, they fought to overpower each other. Sam bucked beneath Dean trying to overtake him. Dean pressed into Sam, pinning his hands above his head. “Stop!” Dean's voice boomed, laced with commanded warning. Hazel eyes searched emerald finding fearful uncertainty. Sam rolled over onto his stomach. He pressed his cheek into the pillow as he arched his hips up so that Dean’s hardness would slip between his plump ass cheeks. Dean groaned loudly. He leaned down placing gentle kisses on the middle of Sam’s back before trailing his tongue down.  

 

Licking a strip down the dip of Sam’s frame stopping just above the cleft at the top of Sam’s cheeks. “Fuck De, quit being such a pussy. Just fuck me already.” Sam snapped. Dean reached over to the nightstand to fumble for the bottle of lube. Finding it, he squirted some out into his palm.  

 

“Spread em, show me that little fuck hole,” Dean growled out as he roughly ripped his hands away from where they had Sam’s pinned above him. Sam obeyed, his hands sliding down the sheets before moving to grip each of his cheeks and pulled them apart, exposing his entrance. His actions were obedient, yet the eyes watching Dean over his shoulder were rebellious.  

 

Dean had wanted to take his time, tease Sam with some foreplay. Now he wanted to punish him for calling him a pussy. Dean slicked up his length with the lube in his palm before squeezing a large glob out onto the tip of his thumb. He rubbed the digit around the hole before pushing it into the knuckle, earning a gasp from Sam. Thrusting it in then out a few times. Just enough to work the viscous liquid inside before pulling it out then ramming his hard cock inside to the hilt. 

 

Sam cried out at the sudden harsh penetration dropping his hands down as Dean pulled him up, so he was on widespread knees. Dean leaned over him as he gripped Sam’s hands, linking their fingers together before pinning them on either side of Sam’s head. “Now, fuck yourself on big brother’s dick,” Dean ordered.  

 

Sam panted, forehead pressed against the mattress. “Give me a sec…need to adjust,” Sam panted out.  

 

Dean bit the back of his neck hard, causing Sam to wince. “I said fuck yourself, now!” Dean barked back.  

 

Sam’s hips began to rotate. His chest was dipping down against the mattress as he slid up, back arching beautifully. Shoulders rose as his hips rounded in a full circle to slid back down onto Dean, while he whimpered little cries of pleasure at the overwhelming feeling of harsh penetration. 

 

The veins of Dean’s arms bulged as he squeezed Sam’s hands in his own with a vice-like grip. Moaning out his satisfaction as he leaned up to watch Sam’s opening consume his hard length. “Fuck Sammy. Damn baby boy you feel so fucking good. Mmmph, wish you could see the way your tight little hole is all stretched around my cock. Fuck! So fuckin pink.” The achingly slow way Sam was grinding himself up then down on Dean's length was quickly becoming not enough. He hadn’t wanted it rough, but Dean was quickly getting into it. Dean roughly gripped Sam’s hips to hold him in place, halting his movements, so he was buried balls deep inside Sam. Sam whined with need as Dean remained motionless. The older Winchester smirking when Sam began to wiggle in an attempt to move even just a little bit. 

 

With the sharp snap of his hips, Dean pounded roughly into Sam. The action caused Sam’s knees to give out sending them crashing down onto the mattress. “Fuck De,” Sam groaned out, earning a seductive chuckle from Dean.  

 

“Too much Sammy? Thought you wanted me to fuck-Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Sam was inching towards the headboard in a feeble attempt to gain his footing. Dean was refusing him a moment of reprieve; demanding Sam feel every moment, hear every sound the two made. Forcing down his feelings of worry, anger, and the fear that Sam would forget the feel of him. That one day he’d lose the memory of his smell, the sound of his voice, the thrill of his love. Dean was letting go by literally pounding out his worry into Sam. Transforming the panic-inducing fear into an ecstasy, they both feel. 

 

Summoning strength from some unknown place deep inside Sam turned the tables. He broke away from Dean's grip, flipping around to face him. Straitening his back to kneel before Dean, his hazel gaze boring down into his brother's eyes. Sam then lifted himself to straddle Dean placing himself in Dean's lap, lowering himself down to once again bury Dean's hardness deep inside him. Dean was letting out a loud guttural sound while wrapping one arm around the small of Sam's back as the younger man arched up on his heels to begin riding Dean. Making sweet slow rises then torturous hard strokes down. Sam linked his hands behind Dean's neck, his fingertips sending pleasant sensations to his brain at the feel of the soft prickles of recently buzzed hair follicles. 

 

Teeth were pressed into the tender flesh of Dean's neck, marring it with imprints that would bruise later. Dean hissed from the sensual pain. Their lips were meeting in a desperate carnal mess of teeth and tongues. Dean's free hand was reaching between them. Fingertips were snaking slowly down the ridges of Sam's abs, a single digit ghosting up the length of Sam's shaft before fisting around the throbbing organ to begin pumping in time with the rise and fall of Sam's hips. Making Sam moan gravelly. Dean leaned into Sam's throat, nuzzling against it. The feeling of Dean's five-o'clock shadow scratching against the soft skin sending a shiver coursing through Sam's body. When Dean's teeth sank into the skin, the sharp bite sent Sam over the edge. Cumming hard into Dean's hand. 

 

Sam was still shaking from the aftershocks when his body went limp, settling into Dean's frame. Dean was raising his cum covered hand to his lips, the tip of his tongue darting out to lap the white viscous substance. Sam leaned in, his tongue licking cum from Dean's hand before the two pairs of lips met in a mix of tongues, cum, and husky groans. Dean leaned forward to lay Sam on his back. His hands were hooking behind Sam's knees, pushing them forward to arch Sam's hips at just the right angle to reach his prostate. Sam was whimpering as Dean loomed over him with a pleased smirk. "Fuck De...you're so beautiful." Sam panted out the words. Dean dipped forward with his hips, making Sam's head fall back, and his hands grip the sheets. 

 

When Dean came, he would later swear the earth shook, if anyone were to ask him. Sam had writhed, bucked, and cried out beneath him so beautifully. He'd left hickeys, teeth marks so deep they were already growing a blackish purple on Dean's broad shoulders and neck, along with red whelps and fresh cuts from his nails down Dean's back. The feeling of warm cum bursting forth inside Sam was like feeling your soul leave your body. Dean's eyes were closed. His chest heaving from exhaustion. A bead of sweat on the tip of his nose ready to fall at any second. Sam licked the salty wet up before placing gentle kisses all over Dean's face. Dean pulled out of Sam before gently laying down in his arms to drift into a peaceful sleep. 

 

Sam sat in the desk chair in the corner of their bedroom watching Dean in peaceful slumber. A full-bellied hunters moon was shining through the windows giving the room a soft orange luminous glow. He gently tilted the glass of warm bourbon in his hand making the dark liquid swirl before downing it. Memories raced through his skull. John was grabbing a duffle bag from the counter in a shit motel before turning to a young Dean to say "Lock the doors, the windows, close the shades. And most important-"  

 

Before John could finish Dean chimed in, "Watch out for Sammy."  

 

Dean's shocked face when Sam slammed John's journal down on a nightstand. "Are monsters real?"  

 

Dean was giving a deep sigh replying, "Monsters are real...dad fights them."  

 

Dean was pacing a few feet of a high school football field while Sam sat on the bleachers. "That kid's dead." Dean had spat about a bully that had picked a fight with his little brother.  

 

Sam was pleading with him to leave it alone. "I don’t wanna be the freak for once Dean. I wanna be normal." Sam's memory of his own voice was calm. He quickly poured another then another glass, downing them quickly. Eyeing the empty cup with unsatisfied need. His gaze was darting to the half-full canteen on the desk beside him. His hand was sweaty. His mouth dry. He reached for it, hastily unscrewing the cap turning it up to his mouth to take a sip before placing the lid back on then returning it to the desk.  

 

Dean gave a sleepy groan as he rolled over in bed. Sam's eyes locked in Dean's direction. He'd stirred but was still sleeping peacefully. Sam's hands were shaking.  The copper taste in his mouth seemed to burn. He reached for the canteen again, unscrewing the cap turning the bottle up then gulping as a large mouthful of Regina's blood poured down his throat. His Adam's apple bobbing as he downed the contents. Shaking the bottle with his tongue stuck out to catch the last drop. The empty canteen hit the floor as Sam's pupils dilated. Everything was somehow just more. 

 

Lights were brighter, his vision clearer, sounds of crickets chirping outside grew louder. His reaction time seemed faster. All the old aches and pains of past hunting injuries seemed to fade. He could practically hear Dean's heart beating. The sound was much slower than the feel of his beating heart under his breast. His cock filling at an alarming rate even though he'd just spent the last few hours with Dean fucking his brains out. He stood to walk over to the bed. Hesitating before reaching out to roll Dean over, wake him, and begin round two. Instead, he turned to the door. Slipping out of the room without a sound. 

 

Dean woke the next morning with a much-needed stretch. He yawned loudly before turning onto his side. His arm was reaching out to wrap around Sam's waist, finding nothing but cold, empty sheets his eyes darted around the room. He was alone. Nothing seemed out of place other than an open bottle of bourbon on the desk, an empty glass on the floor, and the canteen of Regina's blood beside the bottle. Dean gave an anguished sigh. He hated that Sam was drinking that shit. He hated even more that Sam drinking that shit was the only thing stopping a future where Dean murdered his loved ones. 

 

He rose from bed, dressing quickly. Smirking as he pulled on Sam's Standford University sweats. The too-long article of clothing was bunching up around his ankles. That skinny boy was a damn sasquatch. He fumbled through the dresser where Bobby kept some of their old clothes they would leave behind in the wash when they visited. Finding his former favorite Def Leppard shirt that he had cut the sleeves off of and torn the sides so it looked like one of those old tank tops rock stars used to wear back in the 1980's. Pulling it over his body before padding barefoot across the hallway to the bathroom. 

 

He brushed his teeth, gargled mouthwash, then took a much-needed long piss before practically bounding down the stairs. Stopping at the bottom to run a few fingers through his hair to make sure it had that I woke up like this perfection before walking into the kitchen. Ellen was at the table watching Bobby at the stove. Sam was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Sammy?" He asked. Ellen took in his appearance with a look he didn’t quite understand.  

 

"Been outside all morning. That kid must have run five miles by now." Bobby said as he tilted his frying pan to let the bacon he'd been cooking fall onto a plate covered with paper towels. 

 

When he glanced up at Dean, his face wore the same expression as Ellen's. "Damn son. You lose a fight or something? Don’t that shit usually go the other way round?" Bobby teased as he placed the plate on the table before Ellen.  

 

"The fuck you talkin bout old man?" Dean said, scratching the back of his head in confusion.  

 

"You skip looking in the mirror this morning boy? Can’t blame ya. If I was that ugly, I would too." Bobby said as he turned back to the stove to begin cracking eggs into a large bowl.  

 

Dean was puzzled. He stepped into the hallway to glance into the mirror that hung there. "WHAT THE FUCK!" He yelled out. Bobby and Ellen were snickering in the other room. He had fucking hickeys. Like a fucking teenager. And not just hickeys, bite marks too. Full sets of red and purple teeth marks across his neck and shoulders. He spun around, lifting his shirt to find red whelped claw marks scattered across his already scarred back. The few cuts Sam had left weren't deep. They wouldn't scar. Thank god. At least Sam would be as embarrassed as he was. He had bite marks too. 

 

The sound of the front door closing pulled Dean out of his thoughts. He moved back into the kitchen to see Sam taking a seat at the table next to Ellen. Sam had dressed in basketball shorts and a tight tee shirt. Dean scowled at the fact that Sam's neck was unmarred. He was sure he had seen marks there the night before. Dean let his body flop into the chair next to Sam as Bobby placed a bowl full of scrambled eggs on the table before sitting down himself.  

 

Dean lightly slugged Sam on the shoulder. "Look what you did to me you little fucker." He barked playfully.  

 

Sam gave a hearty belly laugh. "Oh, so it's only ok when you do it to me? Jerk." Sam teased.  

 

"Bitch." Dean spat. Sam leaned over to place a sweet passionate kiss on Dean's lips.  

 

"Idjits," Bobby said with a smile, spooning out eggs onto everyone's plates. The Winchester brothers smiled warmly as they chewed their bacon and eggs. Being with Bobby and Ellen was like having a real family. Like having a real mom and dad. It was a comfort they needed more than the air they breathed. 

 

Sam kept letting his fingers run up the length of Dean's thigh under the table. Relishing in the way it made his big brother sit up straight and stiff. Dean was talking with his mouth full. Going on about this one time he'd gotten into a bar fight with some guy twice his size that he ended up only getting two hits in before the guys scorned girlfriend jumped in screaming he cheated on her with someone named Amanda. Sam leaned over to nuzzle Dean's ear as he finished the story. "You look so fucking hot in those sweats De. And that shirt. Makes me wanna drop to my knees and suck you off." Sam whispered so only Dean could hear. Dean was painfully aware of the feeling of Sam's hand ghosting its way up his inner thigh. 

 

Dean sighed in both relief, as well as longing when the sound of a phone ringing ended the contact. The Winchester's both clearing their throats as Bobby rose from the table to pick up the line. "Singer's Auto...oh um...hold on." Bobby held the phone out towards Ellen with a look of sympathy. When she rose to take the line from him, Bobby spoke quietly. "Boys why don’t you come outside and help me with this thingy." He said as he walked passed the table into the library towards the front door. Sam took the hint immediately, rising to follow.  

 

Dean still chewing a mouth full of bacon said, "I'm still eating."  

 

"Joanna Beth, you need to come home," Ellen said into the receiver under her breath.  

 

Dean jumped up from the table grabbing a hand full of bacon before mumbling, "Fuck that." Narrowly dodging the auto trader magazine, she launched at him before rushing out the front door after his brother and the old man. Once in the safety of outside, he joined Sam and Bobby on the porch. His eyes were drifting up to his little brother. 

 

Sam's skin was practically glowing. He looked refreshed, well rested and ready to take on anything. Dean had to admit it was a comfort. They'd been here for nearly a week, so he was itching for a hunt. To be back out on the road with Sam. However, he couldn't shake the feeling he had about Sam. Dean himself bore dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He was wearing the marks of staying up all night fucking. Sam didn't. There was the fact that he'd woke up alone in bed for the first time since he could remember. Plus, there was that canteen. So perfectly centered on the desk in their bedroom. 

 

Screaming from inside the kitchen drew him out of his dark thoughts. The three men bound back inside the house with haste. "I'm your mother, and I don’t have to be reasonable!" Ellen was screaming at the top of her lungs.  

 

Jo's reply could be heard on the other end of the line, "You can't keep me there! I don't have a home anymore!"  

 

Ellen was gripping the edge of the kitchen counter so hard her knuckles turned white. "You don’t wanna come here then fine! Go back to school." She snapped. Jo's incoherent yelling was mixed with sobs. "Getting yourself killed on some dusty back road? That's where you belong?" Ellen replied to whatever Jo had said, fighting back tears of her own. 

 

The line went dead. Ellen hung up the phone gently with trembling fingers. Bobby acted as if to rush to her side, stopping dead in his tracks when she turned to face them. She was beyond angry. Comfort wasn't needed at the moment.  

 

She calmly sat at the table before snapping her fingers, pointing downward to the center of the table. "You two, sit." She commanded at the boys. They rushed over taking seats across from her. Dean was still chewing his handful of bacon when she started to speak. "Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment. Jo says she wasn’t the first. Over the past 80 years, six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. She plans on hunting alone. I can’t lose her. Sam, Dean, please. Stop her." She pleaded.  

 

Less than 15 minutes later the boys were throwing their duffels in Baby's trunk before running around to jump inside. Dean threw the Impala into reverse, spinning her around so fast a thick cloud of dust burst out around her before she peeled out to the driveway. It would take nearly 22 hours to get to Philadelphia from Sioux Falls. Dean was sure he could make it in less. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester's rush to beat Jo and solve the case before she gets there. But things don't always go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait guys. Life has been insane. Not to worry because my posting schedule should return to some what normal. Most likely there will be Bi-weekly updates due to the fact that this story is now edited by my wonderful beta, Usagili. Enjoy the chapter guys. The next one will be up in about a week. Thank you for all the comments and kudos. You guys make this lowly writer's day.

[](https://ibb.co/gJwz9x)   
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Sam picked the lock of the Philadelphia apartment with ease before cautiously stepping in. Dean close on his heels. "I feel kinda bad, crashing in on Jo's case." He said once he knew the place was empty.

Dean stepped in past him. "Well...she really did her research. But could you really see her out working one of these things? Last time we saw her she didn't even know you were possessed." Dean hated that he had to remind Sam of that night. His little brother still wouldn't talk about it. Dean knew why. Meg had taunted him with hints of spilling some twisted tale of their relationship to Jo. " _She can't believe her charming white knight Deano is a brother fucking sex freak_." Meg's words rang like nails on a chalkboard. The kind of sound you never wanted to hear again.

Dean may never know what that bitch had really said. Sam buried the memories, shoving it deep down in hopes it would cease to exist. The same thing Dean was currently doing by not asking about Sam's strange behavior and that damn canteen being out on the desk. It was the Winchester way. If you can't kill it, escape it, or talk about it, you bury it. They moved in unison, pulling out EMF detectors to begin scanning the place. Sam's started going haywire around a light switch on the wall behind them.

The cover panel was missing, some sort of thick black viscous matter leaking from it. "What's that?" Sam leaned closer, pressing a finger to the goo. "Holy crap." His voice was shocked.

Dean touched a thumb to the tacky goop, holding it up for a closer look. "That's ectoplasm..." He said seriously. "Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here." They slowly raised their eyes to stare at each other. "It's the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man." He gave a cocky little smirk when delivering the punch line.

Sam shook his head at Dean's lame joke. "De I've only ever seen this stuff like twice...You have to be one majorly pissed off spirit to make this shit." Dean nodded in agreement. Now wasn't a good time for jokes. They needed to work fast. There was no sign that Jo had been there. Chances were they had beat her to the punch. If everything went right they could solve the case and slip out before she arrived. Two birds one stone. She would be safe, no having to deal with past events. Sam locked the door behind them as they snuck back out of the apartment.

They walked casually down the hall side by side. Dean purposely letting his elbow bump into Sam's before nonchalantly allowing the backs of his fingers to brush against Sam's. Sam's lips wearing a broad smile as he let his own linger against Dean's. Neither one taking the others hand in their own. Simply allowing the briefest of touches. The kind that sends a jolt of excitement straight to the pleasure part of the brain. Until voices could be heard down the hallway ahead of them.

They attempted to duck back into a doorway to hide only to find the entryway too shallow. They stuck out like sore thumbs. The only thing they could do was come up with some sort of excuse for being a few feet away from the empty apartment. But with the clock ticking the time to plan was short. The voices seemed to be that of a man and woman and they were drawing closer. "We could always just start making out. Pray they aren't homophobes and that they'll just walk right past?" Dean's suggestion came with a cheeky grin.

"Oh cause that's a perfect plan." Sam's response was sarcastic.

Dean snickered playfully before glancing over his shoulder to see a man rounding the corner at the end of the hall just before his female companion appeared beside him. A petite pretty girl with long blonde hair. Fuck, it was Jo. So much for handling the hunt before she got there. Yet this could work to their advantage. Assuming she didn't hate their guts. Before he could think of what to say she spotted them. She smiled brightly, "There you are honey." She held her arms out as she walked up to them. Dean started to hold out his arms as he plastered on a loving gaze. His hands snapping to his sides as he was sidelined. Jo wrapped her arms around Sam.

"This is my boyfriend Sam and his buddy Dean." She said as she turned to the man.

"Good to meet you. Quite a gal you got here." The man responded, shaking Sam's hand.

"Yeah, she's uh...She's a pistol." Sam said with a chuckle. His eyes drifting up to Dean's to find his brother rolling his eyes in what looked like jealous annoyance.

"So did you already check out the apartment?" Jo asked, looking up at Sam. She nudged the toe of his shoe with her own to draw his gaze to her.

"Wha? Oh yeah. Loved it." Sam's voice was clumsy. As if he wasn't quite paying attention.

The man that accompanied Jo seemed confused. "How did you get in?" He asked.

"It was open." Sam said flatly.

"Now Ed, When did the last tenant move out?" Jo asked before the man could overthink it.

"Oh uh, about a month ago. Cut and run. Stiffed me for the rent. Its fully furnished though." Ed said.

"Well her loss our gain. Cause if Sammy loves it, it's good enough for me." Jo gave a toothy laugh. "We'll take it." She pulled out a huge roll of cash, holding it out to Ed. He took the cash from her with a satisfied smirk.

A while later Jo was watching Dean reassemble his colt. "So...Mom sent you two to babysit me, didn't she?" Her fake smiles replaced with seriousness.

"You shouldn't be here...Your mom's just worried." Dean spoke calmly as he palmed the clip into place. Pulling back on the slide to load the chamber. She glanced over at Sam to find back up. She found none. He simply sat behind them on the sofa, cleaning his own pistol.

"Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and deal with it." She spat back at Dean. The look he gave her held many emotions. Anger at her insult mixed with sorrow.

It wasn't as if he had feelings for the girl. He truly didn't. Yet he couldn't help but blame himself for the current state of things. He'd stupidly flirted with her when they first met as an attempt to forget about Sam. He hadn’t thought that she would actually develop a crush on him. Yet whatever Meg had told her about him had to be truly awful. The sense of disgust she held for him was so obvious it cut to the bone. He'd thought of her like the little sister he'd never had. Now she hated him.

The fact that she seemed fine with his brother meant it wasn't his relationship with Sam. He shivered at the thought. That meant it was something worse. " _Dean, I know demons lie. But do they ever tell the truth too_?" The memory rang loudly in his skull. Fuck that demon bitch. What the fuck did she say? He breathed a sigh of relief when his cell phone rang, Thunderstruck breaking the awkward silence.

He stood quickly, spinning around before pulling the phone from his pants pocket. "Yeah?" He said as he held it up to his ear. "Oh, Hi Ellen."

The voice on the other line could be heard saying, "Is she with you?"

Jo was on him. Pointing in his face. The two of them whispering an argument that Sam couldn't make out before Dean gave in. "I haven't seen her, must not have made it here yet."

Ellen could be heard giving a deep sigh of relief. "Well when she shows up you'll be sure to drag her ass here won't you?"

Dean laid the charm on thick. "Yeah, sure thing." She must have bought it because she replied with a thank you before hanging up. Jo smiled in victory. Dean shoved the phone back into his pocket. Sam laughed while shaking his head.

Jo and Sam sat around the table in the kitchen area going over blueprints and documents of the building that Jo had used to build a file for the case. Dean glared at the way that Jo over confidently spun a knife in her hand as she began to speak. "This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago.

Dean paced the floor behind her. "Yeah? What was here before 1924?" He asked with slight irritation.

"Nothing, empty field." She replied bluntly.

"So the most likely scenario, Someone died bloody in the building and now he's back and raising hell." Sam's voice was calm as he shifted the papers in his hand.

"I already checked, no violent deaths in the past 82 years," Jo said matter of factly. "Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor. Would you please sit down?" She barked at Dean.

The boys locked eyes for a moment, Sam's saying a silent apology. Dean's jaw twitched with annoyance but he gave in, pulling out a chair to take a seat. "So, have you checked the police reports, county death records?" He asked.

"Obituaries, mortuary reports, and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing." The look she gave Dean was heavy with defiance.

He cracked a sarcastic grin, winking at her as he spoke. "I think the jury's still out on that one." Sam snickered at them. They were so much more alike than they knew. "Would you put the knife down?" Dean's voice was flat, a model example of cool collectiveness. Sam's eyes were darting between the two of them. Jo was death-glaring at a snide faced Dean.

"Ok! So, uh, It's something else then." Sam almost sighed with relief when Jo calmly placed the knife down before both sets of eyes turned on him. "Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought the spirit with it?" He continued.

"We gotta scan the whole building, everywhere we can get to, right?" Jo asked him.

"Right." Dean cut in. "So, you and me will take the top floors." He said with a smile as he stood from his seat.

"We’d move faster if we split up." She spun around in her chair, halting his movement by placing herself in his path.

"Oh, this isn't negotiable," Dean said seriously. She sighed heavily. Knowing from the stern seriousness in his eyes there was no way she could argue her way out of it. Sam finally sighed with relief as he watched the two of them walk out of the apartment. The tension between them could only end badly.

"So, are you gonna buy me dinner?" Jo asked flatly. They were walking down a hallway holding out an EMF detector with Dean close on her heels.

"What're you talking about?" Dean looked at her with confusion.

"It's just if you're gonna ride me this close, it's only decent to buy me dinner." She spat out at him with a smirk.

"That's hilarious. It's bad enough I lied to your mom. You think I'm letting you out of my sight? Don't know if you noticed but you're kind of the spirit's type."

"Exactly." She said as they round the corner of the hall.

He sped up slightly to step in front of her. "Wait, you wanna be bait?"

"It's the quickest way to draw it out and you know it." She seemed taken back by his sarcastic chuckle. "What?"

"I'm so regretting this." He walked off just a few steps ahead of her, halting when she finally snapped at him.

"You know I've had it up to here with your shit." She held her hand above her head dramatically. "Just cause some demon in Sam's body was able to trick me doesn't mean women can't do the job, Dean."

"Sweetheart this ain't gender studies. Women can do the job just fine. Amateurs can't. You got no experience. Which is why that demon got the best of you. You're lucky I showed- You know what forget it." She was giving him that look again. Disgust and confusion, attraction mixed with the inability to understand something. To understand him. "Jo you got options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young...I wish I could do something else."

"But you love the job." She smiled.

"Yeah, but I'm a little twisted." He said with a laugh. This was good. They were getting somewhere, finding a common ground to let go of whatever ill feelings she was holding onto.

"A little?" She sneered, trying to get under his skin. To punish him for whatever it was he supposedly did, according to some demon. "That's an understatement."

"Excuse me?" Dean couldn't think of anything better to say. Regardless of whatever Meg made up about him, the fact still remained that she barely knew him. "You know I'm getting really sick of this shit. So why don't you just tell me why you don't like me so we can move on." He braced himself for the truth. "What kinda bullshit did that bitch make up that's given you such a hate-on towards me?"

"Stop it Dean. I don't want to talk about it. Let's just finish the hunt." She tried to sidestep him. He held fast in her way.

"Look we both know that you know about me and Sam so let's not pretend. Jo just tell me." She hesitated, he stared down at her waiting. He wasn't going to let this go. Not after finally working up the courage to confront her about it.

"Fine." She sighed. "It's not that you're gay. Although I wish you would have told me before you let me think I had a chance. It's just...He's your brother Dean. It's not right. And what you're doing to him is wrong. You're hurting him. And-" Dean cut her off mid-sentence. His fists were clenched so tightly at his sides that the EMF detector in his hand threatened to shatter from the pressure.

"We know it's not right. But it's us. I guess it's what happens when you live on top of each other for so long like we did. And if you don't like it that’s fine. We understand. But don't you ever fucking assume that you know me. I would never hurt my brother. Sam is everything to me." His voice held a deep fierceness.

"It said you were a sadist. That you force Sam. That you're rough and you hurt him." She seemed shocked. Like prey backed into a corner. Re-thinking everything she thought she knew.

"However rough me and my brother like to fuck is none of your business. I don't force him. Never had to, never will. Now, are we done?" He was angry. Both at her and Meg. Fucking demons and their sick obsession with his sex life. Yet it wasn't her fault. Jo was young. She'd never dealt with the way demons manipulate you with words. "Look, Jo, you got a mother who worries about you. She wants more for you. Those are good things. You don't throw things like that away. They might be hard to find later."

She seemed to think upon his words for a moment. Then she gave him an apologetic smile. Full of the warmth she used to gaze upon him with. She may not hate him anymore, yet now it seemed that her schoolgirl crush was working its way back.

They progressed down the hallway. Spreading out from each other a bit to scan the area for EMF readings. Dean stepped just around the corner at the end of the hallway. Suddenly he heard her jump and gasp in shock. He darted back around to find her looking around the area. A bit shaken but ok. "You ok?" He asked just to make sure.

She shook her head with a sigh. "I'm not sure. It felt like something was behind me." Her voice cracked a bit. He stepped closer to her, looking around the room. There was a strange smell in the air.

"You smell that?" He asked. She sniffed but couldn't pick out the scent he was talking about.  
"What is it, a gas leak?"

"No, it's something else. I know it. I just can't put my finger on it." As he looked around the room the detector in her hand started to click, picking up a small reading. She slowly lowered down to her knees. The readings flying into the red, causing the detectors alarms to blare as she held it in front of an air vent near the floor. "Mazel tov, you just found your first spirit." He said with a smile.

He kneeled down beside her. Pulling a flashlight and a screwdriver from his coat pocket. He held the light just inside the vent opening so he could see inside. "There's something in there. Here." He handed her the flashlight before sliding down so that he could reach deeper into the hole. She leaned in with the light, just a bit to close for his liking. His face was cringing. She backed off just a bit. "No, It's not you...its." He pulled out what he'd found. A mass of blonde hair, chunks of scalp still attached. "Someone's keeping souvenirs." He threw the chunk of hair back inside the vent as fast as he could with a disgusted, "Ugh." Replacing the cover before they hurried back to the apartment.

Sam was still seated at the kitchen table looking through the paperwork. "Glad to see you two worked it out." He said from behind one of the papers. Jo rolled her eyes, walking over to the refrigerator to pull out three beers as Dean moved to stand behind Sam. Popping the caps off of them she handed one to each of the boys. All three took a long swing from their bottle before settling in at the table. As Dean explained what they'd found to Sam, Jo once again started playing with the knife. Dean placed his chin on the top of Sam's head, feeling the need to touch in some way. He watched her turning the knife with amusement. "Come on Sammy, I'm beat. We drove all day. I wanna lay in that nice big tub before we pass out." He gripped Sam's hand, pulling him up from the table. Beginning to make his way towards the one bedroom in the apartment.

Sam smiled. He'd seen the way Dean's eyes had lit up when they'd first checked the place out earlier that day. There was a huge jacuzzi bathtub in the bathroom and he knew Dean had thought about fucking in it. "Uh, what do you think you’re doing?" Jo said from the table with a giggle. The Winchester's turned to look over their shoulders.

"Uh...I do believe people call it taking a bath and going to sleep?" Dean said sarcastically.

"Fine take your bath. But the bed is mine." Jo sneered at him.

"No way! Me and Sammy sleep together, always." Dean protested like a child.

"Not my problem, I paid for it. My bed." She took another sip of her beer.

Sam squeezed Dean's hand in his own. Letting his fingers gently brush the skin of Dean's own in a comforting way as they became intertwined. "De she's a girl. We can't make her sleep on the couch. We can make a pallet on the floor. Come on, let's get you that bath. I might still have some bubble bath from the hotel in Atlantic city in my bag." Sam smiled warmly at him. Dean sighed in defeat as he allowed his brother to pull him off towards the bedroom.

The next morning Dean shifted uncomfortably onto his stomach on the recliner. Still clad in his jeans and dark red button up from the night before. They'd driven off from Bobby's so fast he'd forgotten to pack his sleepwear. The sounds of a siren wailing outside woke him from his un-peaceful slumber. He rolled over to see Jo sitting at the kitchen table. "Morning Princess." She said in a teasing tone.

"Where's Sam?" He groaned out huskily. Rolling his eyes when he noticed she was once again twirling around her small pocket knife.

"Went to get coffee." She looked down at the paperwork in front of her. He groaned as he sat up. Mumbling out a complaint about his back hurting. The hardwood floor had proven to be far too hard to sleep on. In the end, he'd grunted out inaudible complaints as he'd sprawled out on the couch before patting his lap to signal for Sam to join him. Except when Sam crawled up to lay down on top of Dean the boy's height had been the next issue. They'd had to switch places and fall asleep with Dean laying on top of Sam. It worked up until Dean found himself lying on the floor in the early morning. Cold from Sam's missing body heat. Sam had shifted onto his side on the couch which left Dean only able to find a soft surface in the recliner. He'd slept like garbage, alone and tossed aside.

"How'd you sleep on that big, soft bed?" He rose from the chair, rubbing his pained lower back.

"I didn't." She said without looking up. The look he gave her said it all. She seriously made a fuss about the bed so they couldn't use it and ended up not even pulling back the blankets. Bitch. "I've just been going over everything." She twirled the knife in hand haphazardly.

He sighed as he reached over to pick up his duffel bag. Slamming it down onto the table. Pulling open the zipper and reaching in to reveal a large hunting knife nestled inside its sheath. He pulled it free of its cover, flipped it in the air, catching the blade in his hand before holding it out to her with a "Here."

"What's this for?" She took the blade from him, looking it over before meeting his gaze.

"It'll work a hell of a lot better than that little pigsticker you've been twirling around." He'd meant it as a kind gesture. Yet her face was sad as she held out her small blade for him to take. He held it up with a puzzled look. The letters W.A.H. were etched into the blade.

"William Anthony Harvelle." She said, her voice soft with sadness.

"I'm sorry. My mistake." He held it out for her to take back.

"What do you...What do you remember about your dad?" She asked with a blank expression. "I mean what's the first thing that pops into your head?" He shook his head no, brushing off her question. "Come on. Tell me."

He stared at her seriously, waiting to see if she was truly going to force him to talk about the sore subject. The smile faded from her lips yet she still held on. His eyes averted her gaze, looking to the side then down to the floor. His teeth scraping across the soft plumpness of his bottom lip as he worked up the strength to talk about it. "I was 6, maybe 7 and, uh... He took me shooting for the first time." He pulled out a chair from the table, taking a seat. "Bottles on a fence kinda thing. I bulls-eyed every one of them. And he would smile like..." His voice trailed off. His own smile faded as he hesitated.

"He must have been proud." She said with a nod of reassurance.

He scoffed. "I don't say it to Sam. But I'll never forgive myself for the way I talked to him the last time I saw him. He couldn't take it...Me and Sam. We should never have let him go. Maybe he'd still…Forget it. What about your dad?" His eyes slowly rose to meet hers again.

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died. But...I remember his coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through the door like Steve Mcqueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms. And I'd breath in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom...who was sour and pissed from the moment he left would just start smiling again. We were...a family." Dean smiled at her warmly, taking it in as if he could see it. "You wanna know why I wanna do the job?" She asked with stern seriousness. "For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now tell me what's wrong with that?" She asked though it was more of a statement than a question.

"Nothing." He replied softly.

Sam burst through the door. Both of them turning to look at him. "Where's the coffee?" Dean asked, taking note of Sam's empty-handedness.

"There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared." Sam said while trying to catch his breath.

Sometime later Dean re-entered the room after finding out what he could about the last girl to disappear. "Theresa Ellis, apartment 2-F." He said as he closed the door behind him. Sam and Jo were sitting at the table, turning to face him as they listened to his words. "Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn."

"And her apartment?" Jo asked as he rounded the table to stand across from them.

"Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There's ectoplasm too." Dean's face was serious, all business.

"Between that and the tuft of hair, I'd say it's coming from the walls," Sam said as he glanced down at the papers in front of him.

"But who is it? Buildings history is totally clean." Dean said calmly.

They were at a loss. Nothing seemed to add up. But one thing was for sure. They had to figure it out before another victim turned up. Jo picked up one of the pictures on the table. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong place." She spoke softly as she stared at the photo.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his eyes shifting from Sam's up to hers.

"Check this out." She handed the photo over to Sam. He turned it in hand as Dean leaned in closer to him for a better view. Or perhaps it was just to be closer. Jo didn't know one way or the other. But she was sure of the fact that the Winchester brothers moved like one fluid being. As if they were each other's center of gravity. Pulling together like magnets. Something she hadn't seen in the slightest the first time they had met.

The old photo showed an empty lot surrounded by buildings. "An empty field?" Sam asked in confusion.

"It’s where this building was built. Take a look at the one next door." She paused. "The windows."

Suddenly something stood out to the boys that they hadn't noticed before. "Bars.” Sam said.

"We're next door to a prison?" Dean asked.

It didn't take long for Jo to find the place with the help of Sam's laptop. "Ok!" She perked up. Rousing the boy's attention from across the kitchen. They had been speaking in such a whisper that she hadn't overheard their conversation yet she knew it must have been intimate from the gentle ways they had let their fingertips brush against each other's arms and sides as they moved about. Making a sort of ballet out of grabbing a bottle opener as well as beers from the refrigerator. She cleared her throat. The action causing them to stand about two feet apart.

"Moyamensing Prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door." She ignored the way they had seemed to move back together without noticing. Now standing so close their elbows touched.

"Well then, we need a list of all the people executed there," Sam said with a sigh. She clicked the mouse pad twice before the printer next to her roared to life, spitting out a small stack of papers.

"Already on it." Her tone sounded pleased. Sam smiled, she'd done well.

Sam's eyes scanned the list. "157 names..." He sighed.

"We gotta narrow that down." Dean leaned over him from behind, his arm snaking its way across Sam's back to gently rub the area between his shoulder blades. "Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs."

Sam's eyes drifted down the list. His brow furrowing as he stopped on a name. "Herman Webster Mudgett?" He seemed to be searching his memory.

"Yeah?" Jo prompted from beside him.

"Wasn't that H.H. Holmes' real name?" He turned to Dean. The older brother's smirk was sarcastic. "You gotta be kidding me." Dean's voice was amazed. He took the computer from Jo as the boys sat down at the table with her. He clicked away on the keyboard, bringing up an old newspaper article.

"Yeah, Holmes was executed at Moyamensing May 7, 1896." His voice was full of excitement.

Sam was shaking his head in disbelief. "H.H. Holmes himself. Come on. What are the odds?"

Jo was staring blankly at them. "Who is this guy?" She asked in confusion.

"The term "Multi-Murderer", They coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer. Before anybody knew what a serial killer was." Dean answered her.

"Yeah, He confessed to 27 murders but some thought the death toll at over 100." Sam chimed in. The two of them beaming like kids in a candy store.

"And his victim flavor of choice, pretty petite blondes." Dean was smiling. "He uh, used chloroform to kill them. Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night." His expression turning to realization. He paused, glancing up at Jo before continuing. "At his place cops found human remains. Bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blond hair."

She looked a bit creeped out. "We just gotta find the bones. Salt and burn them, right?"

"Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town. But it’s encased in a couple tons of concrete." Sam replied.

"What? Why?" Her eyes narrowed together.

"The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. Cause you know, it's what he used to do." Dean smirked at the irony of his words.

"You know something..." Sam paused his sentence, giving a chuckle. "We might have an even bigger problem than that.

"How does this get bigger?" Jo's expression was overwhelmed.

"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago." Sam pointed at one of the photos on the table in front of her. "They called it the murder castle. The whole place was a death factory. They had trapdoors, acid vats, quicklime pits. He built these secret chambers...inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in. Keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate. Others he'd let starve to death."

"So Theresa could still be alive. She could Be inside these walls." Jo's words were urgent.

"We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We gotta smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl." All three were already out of their seats before Dean could even finish his sentence.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and Jo rush to save Theresa. But can they get there in time? Can Jo finally come to terms with the boy's love.

[](https://ibb.co/jWhwo8)

 

Dean was the first to climb into the crawl space they'd found inside the wall. Followed closely by Jo who was speaking softly to Sam on the phone. He held his flashlight up. Eyes scanning the narrow area ahead of him. "Yeah, Ok." She said as she hung up. Placing her cell back into her pocket. "Sam's almost done checking the first floor. He hasn't found jack shit either." They placed their backs against the cobweb-covered wall as Dean peered around the corner ahead of them. The coast was clear so he stepped on out but halted. "What is it?" She asked, peering around his broad frame to follow the flashlight's beam with her eyes.

"It’s to narrow. We can't go any further." He sighed the words.

"Let me see." She tried to dip past him. Only getting stuck pressed against him.

"What are you doing?" His voice sounded agitated. Painfully aware of the feel of her ass pressed against his flaccid dick.

"I can fit in there. Just let me," Jo complained when Dean gripped her shoulder, halting her movements.

"You can't go in there by yourself." He snapped.

"Got a better idea?" She brushed his hand off her arm then slid past into the space. Pausing just past the first turn when her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out the incoming call on the outer screen read 'D'. She flipped the phone open. "Stalker." She whispered.

"I couldn't see you." Dean was looking over a blueprint of the building.

She traced a set of pipes along the space to a dead end where they tunneled down through an opening in the floor. "I'm headed down some sort of air duct." She placed the phone on the floor, climbing down.

"No! Stay up here!" He yelled out to her.

"We gotta find this girl, don't we? I'm ok." She hopped down to the floor below. Hearing him say he was headed her way.

Dean found another entrance to where she would come out on the blueprints, turning around to double back to her. "I'm coming to you." He kept her on the phone. He listened as he rushed down the stairs. His heart skipped a beat as she gasped the words ‘oh God’ into the phone. "Jo?" His voice cracked with worry. She screamed then the line turned to static. He bolted down the stairs, pausing in the hallway where she should be on the other side of the wall. He gripped the sledgehammer in his hand tight. "JO?" He yelled. Nothing, no response.

He slammed the hammer into the wall. Busting the drywall until there was a hole big enough for him to peer inside. He shined the flashlight around. "Jo?" He called out to her. Nothing again. Then he noticed it. Her phone laying on the floor.

Dean was pacing the halls, turning corners without looking when he slammed into someone. He spun around in anger. His face turning soft when he took in Sam. But only for a minute. "He's got Jo." He was stern in his fear. Sam couldn't help but see that dark thing living inside his brother peeking its way out through his emerald eyes again. The shadow of angry violence begging to break out causing Dean to spiral out of control.

"What? How'd that happen?" Sam was following him in shock. Not even knowing where they were headed.

"I wasn't with her. I left her alone." Dean growled from over his shoulder. "Damn it!"

Sam was reaching for him. Gripping his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. "Look, we'll find her. She's gotta be inside the walls."

"We've been inside the walls all day. None of the other girls where there she won't be either." Dean was yelling at him as they burst into the apartment.

"Look, Maybe we got Holmes' MO wrong." Sam said as he leaned down over the table to look over the research once more.

"Yeah well, we better think real fucking fast." He barked as his phone began ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out answering without even looking. "WHAT?"

Whoever it was Sam didn't hear. His ears were ringing. His stomach turning, bringing on a wave of nausea. "D-..." He tried with all his might to say his brother's name but he couldn't. His vision went blurry. The last thing he saw was Dean turn to him, dropping the phone before lunging forward. He felt his body stiffen before his vision wasn't his own.

He was alone. He was scared. He reached to turn his flashlight on. He immediately regretted it. He was in a small enclosed space. The ceiling above him soaked in dried blood. Covered in claw marks. He whimpered in fear. Holding back sobs. Yet his voice wasn't his own. It was familiar. He summoned every bit of courage he had to look around him. Finding a small opening in the wall at his side he peered out. The room was cold, damp, and something stood out. A grate in the floor. He heard a woman's voice call, "Who's there?" Then he heard his own. "Is your name Theresa?" Except it wasn't his voice. It was Jo.

Sam felt a sharp sting against his cheek. He snapped out of his trance with a deep gasping intake of air. "Sammy, what the fuck?" Dean was full of worry. Holding him firmly by the front of his coat.

"I... had a vision." He frantically began shuffling through the papers on the table.

"But...you didn't seize." Dean's face seemed confused. Then suddenly everything was clear. The look he gave Sam was more intense than anything the younger man had felt in his life. It bore into his very soul and he knew then at that moment Dean was figuring it all out. He knew everything and later there would be hell to pay but he was safe for the moment. "Tell me you got something." Dean's voice was calm, even if his body language was screaming murder.

Sam shifted through blueprints of the surrounding buildings. Finding what he was looking for his finger traced along a trail on it. "I saw a sewer grate. If I had to guess..." He followed the line to an open space in the center that read Sewer JCT 23. "There. I think that’s where she is." With no time to waste they rushed out the door.

They'd quickly dug out the entry door to the long-forgotten sewer access. Looking down into it with flashlights they couldn’t make out what lay at the bottom. Dean lowered himself in first followed closely behind by Sam, they carefully descended the ladder with rock salt loaded shotguns in hand.

Jo beat the door of the entrance to the cramped hole the spirit was holding her in. She could hear a man whispering, "you're so pretty." Just outside the small opening, she could see him, his lips were stretched tight in an evil smile showing off his rotted teeth. "So beautiful," she shivered a little in fear, disgust, and because of his cold breath that washed over her face.

"Go to hell." She snapped at him. His hand reached in through the opening. She turned away from him. Cringing when his ghostly hand caressed its way down from her neck to her elbow.

She gripped her father's knife in her fist. Rolling over to drive it into his hand, which burst into smoke upon contact with it. His groans of pain echoing through the sewer. "How do you like that? Pure iron you creepy ass son of a bitch!" She yelled out through the opening. She watched as best she could through the small hole. Holding her knife at the ready. His ghostly hand burst through it. Startled she dropped the blade and his hand clamped down over her mouth to muffle her screams.

"HEY!" Dean's voice rang out just before gunshots were heard. The spirit was sent flying back, vanishing in a cloud of smoke. "Jo!" He called out to her. Dean rushed over to the small compartment she was being held in. He shoved a crowbar into the rusted old handle, pushing with all his might to pry it open. Sam peered into the other compartments looking for Theresa or any other victims that may still be alive.

Finding her he calmly spoke into the opening of her cell, "I'm gonna get you out of here alright." A loud clang sounded as Dean cracked open the hatch where Jo was trapped. "Sam!" Dean yelled out, tossing the crowbar to his brother when Sam turned around. Dean lifted up the heavy metal door allowing for Jo to crawl out.

"You alright?" Dean extended his hand to help her.

"I've been better." She said as she gained her footing. "Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back."

"Actually, I don't think you're getting out of here just yet." Dean's voice was serious.

"What?" She asked as if this wasn't a joke.

"Remember when I said you being bait was a bad idea? Well, now it's kind of the only one we got." Dean turned to Sam who was cradling the now free Theresa in his arms. The poor girl's sobs filling the air as the brothers gave each other reassuring looks. They quickly explained the plan to her before everyone moved into place.

It seemed like forever passed as Jo sat in the center of the sewer chamber waiting defenseless for the ghost of Holmes to reappear. The sounds of water dripping the only other sound beside her shaky breath, which grew more fearful as a chill crept into the room. Her face contorting with fear when she knew he was behind her.

She could feel him creeping ever slowly closer. His desire to hurt her was so strong it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Just as he was standing right behind her reaching out to grab her Dean yelled, "Now!" She ducked down as the boys took aim from their hiding place inside one of the sewer pipes. Firing above his head to hit the trap they had set.

Jo scrambled across the floor as salt fell out of the tarp they had rigged up casting a perfect circle around the room. She dove into Sam and Dean's arms as the ghost let out horrifying screams of rage. "Scream all you want you dick but there's no way you're stepping over that salt." Jo spat at it.

Once outside of the sewer entrance, Jo stared into the opening. She jumped a bit when Sam's voice interrupted her train of thought. "So, this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?"

Jo sneered at his joke. "Well, Except for all the piss your pants terror, yeah." Sam laughed at her snappy come back.

"But that Theresa girl is gonna have a life because of us. It's worth it isn't it?" She looked over to find him nodding in agreement with her. "So, what if somebody finds that sewer or like a storm comes and washes the salt away?"

"Both very fine points, which is why we're waiting here." Sam said just before a backup alarm was heard behind them. They turned to see a cement truck coming towards them. Sam guiding it back letting out a, "Ho!" As it reached the right spot. Dean hopped out of the driver's seat coming around to join them. He helped Sam lower the cement shoot into place.

Jo was staring in disbelief. "You ripped off a cement truck?" She asked with a laugh.

He gave her his playboy grin. "I'll give it back." Adding a wink before moving to flip the pour switch. The three of them watching the gray goop fill the sewer entrance. "Well, that should keep him down there till hell freezes over," Dean said with a smile.

Jo woke that night to the sound of a loud thud in the living room followed by silence. She smirked to herself. Dean must have fallen off the couch again. She rolled over onto her side before snuggling into her pillow. Just as she began to drift back to sleep she heard a low groan coming from the other room followed by a whine.

Clad only in soft pink lace panties she sprang from the bed in deft silence. Pulling her silk robe over her naked torso she slipped a knot in the tie before gripping her knife firmly. Perhaps somehow the ghost had escaped and was now after the brothers. She crept to the bedroom door with all the stealth of a feline, prying it open no more than an inch to peer into the room. Her eyes scanning the darkened moonlit area until she caught movement coming from the floor.

The recliner had toppled over onto its back, most likely the source of the thud. Her eyes widened once her brain caught up with what she was seeing. Her muscles went weak with shock causing the knife in her hand to fall hitting the thick bedroom carpet with an almost nonexistent thump. Sam was on the ground, seemingly he'd been in the recliner when it tipped over. Sam's arms were folded before him. His face buried in the crock of his bent elbow. His chest dipped down so low that it was brushing the cold hardwood under him. His back and hips arched, ass up, knees widespread were resting on the edge of the recliners headrest.

And there behind Sam was Dean. Thrusting into Sam with harsh snaps of his hips. She covered her mouth to muffle her gasp. Not that they would have noticed anyway. “Fuck De, harder. Oh god, feels so good.” Sam’s pleas were a quiet whimper.

“Shh. Baby boy I can’t. We already flipped the chair over. What if Jo wakes up?” Dean’s voice was all gravel from the restraint.

Sam’s head tilted to the side. His stormy hazel eyes meeting mossy green from over his shoulder. “I want you to fucking ruin me, Dean.”

Dean always gave Sam what he asked for. Sam’s head snapped back around as Dean thrust deep into Sam, causing the younger man to bite himself in an attempt to quiet his cries of pleasure. Jo could feel her knees shake. The soft fabric of her panties soaking through at the crotch. She couldn’t help herself. Dean was so hot.

The way the sweat was beading across the skin of his forehead. His broad shoulders flexing as he leaned over Sam's body to slide his tongue up between Sam's shoulder blades before leaning in for a sloppy wet kiss. How he raked his teeth over his bottom lip as he leaned back up. Slapping Sam's ass cheek before squeezing the plump twin globes in his fists with a husky moan. His mouth hanging open with a cocky smirk as Sam gasped out loud. "Fuck De, just like that."

Jo was barely aware of her hand sliding down her body until it was inside her panties. Flushing a deep red she gasped in shock. Her hand jerking back down to her side. What was she doing? How could she be so infatuated with this man that she could be turned on by him fucking another man? Not to mention that said man was his brother. She shook her head, brushing the thoughts away. The sounds of Sam’s muffled moans growing louder as he came brought her attention back to the Winchester’s. “That’s it, Sammy. Cum on big brother's cock.” Dean’s words caused her to gasp again. This time out loud. Her eyes darted up.

Dean was staring dead at her. His cocky open mouthed smirk gone. His lips drawn into a thin line. His eyes a deep emerald sea of sadness. He’d stopped his movement. Swaying slightly from the force of Sam’s body convulsing against him. Their eyes locked together for mere seconds that seemed a lifetime until Sam started to glance at Dean over his shoulder. “What’s wrong De?”

Dean’s eyes tore away so fast she was sure he’d get whiplash. “Nothin baby boy, come ‘ere." Dean purred as he pulled out of Sam to flip him over onto his back, lifting Sam's legs over his shoulders before burying himself back inside. Leaning down to claim Sam's mouth with his tongue. His eyes drifting up to hers again with an unspoken plea of ‘go’ before all attention was back on his little brother. Dean's skilled tongue swiping down the length of Sam's jawline as his thrusts picked up the pace. She knew he'd flipped Sam so he was no longer facing her to spare her the embarrassment of him seeing her as well.

Jo silently closed the door. Pressing her back against it she slid to the floor. She couldn't move no matter how much she wanted to. She had been so wrong about them and she hated it. Dean wasn't hurting Sam at all. Sam's begging voice pleading to be ruined. What does that even mean? And Dean? Well, she knew now he was an excellent lover. Focused on Sam's every need. Attentive to every sound, adjusting his actions accordingly at the slightest sign of actually hurting Sam.

But above all else the way he worshiped Sam. Licking, kissing or sucking some place on Sam's body while he fucked him. Unable to allow his hands to stay still for long. His fingertips roaming the miles of soft skin under them as if every inch were being etched into his memory. Until he'd grip the soft flesh under his hands hard. Doubling over Sam's body with feral groans as he drew closer to the end. Lamenting as if in devout prayer. More than anything she wished for him to love her that way. Words could not describe the pain she felt knowing that he never would.

She was helpless, unable to allow herself to block it all out as she listened to Dean bring Sam to the edge over and over again. His mewls and moans growing to whines and cries each time he’d orgasm.

She remained empty and unmoving. Staring blankly off into the darkness until the sound of Dean's voice was heard. “Fuck, Sammy!” The sound of skin smacking together grew louder, faster for a while. Dean growled a dark guttural sound then there was quiet. The only sounds were crickets chirping and soft wet lips brushing against each other. Jo was shaking. Bringing her knees up to her chest she wept in silence.

It was late when she woke up, that she knew. Where was she? Well, that was a different story. A warm firmness pressed against her cheek. The feeling was pleasant. She felt weightless. Like strong arms were carrying her. Jo's eyes shot open. The deep bass voice that spoke quietly in the darkness of the room was comforting as her eyes adjusted.

"Don't scream. It's me." Dean laid her gently down on the big fluffy bed. He pulled the blankets over her tiny frame before lowering himself to sit at the foot of the bed. An awkward moment passed as they sat in silence. Neither looking at the other. "You were never supposed to see..."

She sat up straight, clutching her robe closed. "Forget it."

Again they sat in an awkward silence for what seemed like far too long. When Dean finally broke the silence he couldn't look at her. His face turned away. Eyes staring at the full moon looming in through the window. "If we lived in a normal world," He paused. Sighing loudly as his hand ran down his face before resting on her blanket covered ankle. "In a normal world, I think I could love you, Jo."

Her eyes drifted up to his face. Seeing the honesty in his words. “In a life where evil shit only existed in movies...maybe I could see you as more than a little sister." He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as if dismissing his thoughts. She reached out placing her small hand over his much larger one that rested on her ankle.

"Dean." His gaze slowly drifted from burning a hole in the wall to meet her own. Deep emerald orbs full of sadness and guilt. "It's ok. Sam is very lucky to be loved so much."

"Jo you need to come with us." She broke eye contact but he pushed on. "Let me take you to Bobby's. Your mom loves you and she's worried about you. Plus, Bobby makes the best fucking pancakes you'll ever have." He smiled warmly when she met his eyes once again. They laughed together.

She folded her arms across her chest. Sticking her lip out in a fake pout. "Fine, but only for the pancakes."

He pulled his hand out from under hers before reaching out to ruffle the messy blond hair atop her head. "Get some sleep. It's a long drive back to Sioux Falls." He pulled the blankets up over her slender frame as she laid back to gently rest her head on the pillow.

"Dean...stay with me until I fall asleep?" She didn't know for sure why she asked. His stare was impossible to read as he hesitated. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Sorry. But I have another pretty lady to speak to tonight. Stay here. Get some rest." He stood up quickly, moving towards the door.

"Wait. What?" She started to sit back up. Her actions halting when he stiffened. His posture turning from comforting to something dangerous.

"It's better if you don't know. You'll find out soon enough anyway." His voice was sad. As if all the light had been drained from within him. Leaving behind something broken from emptiness. He slipped out the door. Once again leaving her in dark silence.

A few minutes later Dean was rummaging through Baby's trunk in the apartment complex parking lot. Seemingly finding what he was looking for he closed her trunk before laying a large leather satchel down to begin pulling from within it a stick of chalk, a large copper colored bowl, a sandwich bag filled with herbs and yarrow flowers. As well as two small corked bottles of milk from a black cow and his own blood.

He drew a pentagram surrounded by symbols on the pavement behind him. Adding the ingredients to the bowl before rising back to his feet. He dug a matchbook from his jeans pocket, striking it, then tossing it into the bowl. The mixture burst into flame as he uttered an incantation. "Daemon, esto subjecto voluntati meae." The flames sparked out before dying. All the night time sounds going with it. He leaned against Baby's trunk, waiting.

"You know, cell phones are a thing.” Regina said as she leaned against him, laying on the trunk so their backs were pressed together. Shoulder to shoulder with him. "Nice touch adding your own blood to make sure it was me you summoned. And they say you're all beauty and no brains. So what brings you from Samuel's arms to visit little old me this time Dean?" She spun around so she was sitting next to him, her wavy dark hair fluttering in the night wind.

"Has Sam summoned you before?" His voice was dark and dangerous. He moved to stand in front of her, face to face.

"He has." He was almost taken back by her blunt honesty. But then again this was Regina. She liked to play games, as all demons do. Except with Dean, bound to him by some twisted sense of shared life tragedy.

"Why?" It was more of a demand than a question. She eyed him cautiously. Dean hadn't had this type of body language around her since the night he'd made his deal. He was looking at her the way a hunter should when facing a demon.

"He called me to ask for more of my blood. Which, I gave him." She slid off the trunk, moving to place some distance between them. Failing when he gripped her by the arm, slamming her back against the trunk.

"Why would he need more blood?" Dean barked at her. Holding her in place with a harsh grip. The street light caused something in his hand to shimmer. He was turning the demon blade in his clenched fist.

"Dean, darling you're making me nervous. I'll never lie to you. Just let go of me and I'll tell you everything you want to know." She placed a hand over his that held the blade. Her brown eyes searching his for some form of trust but finding none. His grip only tightening.

"What did you do to my brother?" His voice was laced with rage.

"He promised he would tell you." She shifted uneasily on her stilettos. "He summoned me outside the home of Bobby Singer. Pleaded with me to give him more blood. Said he was worried it wasn't working fast enough. That he'd lost control and drank the whole bottle."

Dean was shaking with rage. It threatened to boil over at any moment. She hesitated, watching his movements carefully before continuing. "He . . . wasn't himself. The blood made him strong. I cautioned him once more not to let the urge to binge win. To curb the cravings with more pleasurable activities. He needs your help, Dean. All he kept saying he was running out of time." 

Dean's hand was fidgeting the blade. She knew any moment his own inner demons would best him just as Sam's had. "And you gave him more?"

"I did. But I followed your rules. I filled the canteen. I'll never let him feed directly from me. No matter how much he begs." She had said the wrong thing. Dean flew into swift motion. Luckily, she caught his hand in her free arm just before he drove the demon blade into her heart. She had thought she could easily take him. Use her power to snap her fingers, disappear before he lost his cool.

Her hands were shaking as she pushed against his attempts to plunge the blade downward. Feeling the razor-sharp tip of it snag the fine silk of her blouse. He pushed her harder into Baby's trunk, fisting the hair at the back of her head and pulling to hold her down. She kicked and screamed from beneath him. Fear beginning to set in. She'd seen him murder her a million times before in the future. Would today really be her last?

"Dean, please! I'm your ally. If you kill me Sam will fail. You can't go to hell Dean!" He let out a monstrous grunt, forcing the blade down further. She fought for her life. Kicking his legs in an attempt to throw him off her. She screamed his name when she felt the tip of the blade break the skin of her breast. "DEAN!" Her blood red eyes glowing in the moonlight. His mossy green alive with light. Burning into what was once her soul watching her fear. She almost began to weep as the corner of his mouth began to rise into a wicked smirk.

He was overpowering her. He'd win soon and she would be no more. She guessed there were worse ways to go than at the hands of such a beautiful hunter. She attempted once more to reason with him before she would accept her fate. "Dean, if you kill me everyone you love will die by your hand!" Her words must have snapped him out of it because in a flash he was off of her. The sound of the blade bouncing as it hit the ground. The ting-ting of metal meeting pavement. The two of them breathing heavily in unison.

She sat up gracefully. Fanning out her pencil skirt as she cleared her throat. "If Sam summons you again don't fucking show up. You answer to me! Understand!" His voice was calmer now. "If you ever meet with my brother behind my back again I'll fucking kill you. And I won't even think twice about it."

She hopped down off of Baby's trunk. "Fine. You're already a fucking monster. Enjoy your last six months Winchester. I'd hate to meet what becomes of you if we fail. " She snapped her fingers, vanishing into the night. Leaving him alone in the darkness.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thinks back on his life, his mistakes, and his love for his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter reads as a series of Dean's memories. They're noted by his age and the month. Hope you guys enjoy it. It took me forever to finish this one because it had to be perfect. Kudos and comments are always loved as much as they are needed. Enjoy the chapter.

May: Age 4

 

Dean bounced happily in the backseat as the Impala purred down the suburban streets of Lawrence Kansas. Taking in the familiar scene of houses, counting street lights as they passed. Knowing that he was precisely 4 houses away from home. The place where he would meet his new baby brother for the first time.

 

 

"Daddy, Can I hold the baby?" His tiny voice piped up nervously.

 

 

"Were you good for Mr. and Mrs. Holland?" John's gaze drifted up in the rear-view mirror. John already knew the answer. The Holland's had gone on and on about how Dean had been a perfect little angel for them the whole time Mary had been in the hospital.

 

 

"Uh-huh, I was Daddy, promise!"

 

 

"Well, I'll tell you what champ, if Mommy and the baby are awake when we get home you can hold him. But only for a minute." John watched in the rear-view mirror as his eldest son's face lit up with joy.

 

 

Dean had been over the moon ever since John and Mary had first told him they were going to have a baby. He'd placed his tiny hands on Mary's belly every day. Rubbing it as he talked to his unborn sibling about all the great adventures they were going to have together. Going on and on about teaching him to walk, throw a football, or how to know if a comic book was good just by looking at the cover.

 

 

When they'd pulled up in front of the house, Dean had sprung out of the car before John even had her in park, bounding up the stairs in excitement. John shook his head with a laugh as he pushed his key into the front door deadbolt. He gave it a turn, placed his hand on the knob before looking down at Dean.

 

 

"Now remember son, you gotta be quiet in case the baby is sleeping. When we go inside go wait in my chair in the living room. Got it?”

 

 

John gave his son a stern look, making sure he knew he was serious. Dean nodded, his face bearing a wide grin. John pushed the door open. Dean crept inside, careful not to make any noise. He sidestepped the floorboard that creaked as he moved to the old leather chair in the living room.

 

 

It seemed like a lifetime before his parents came into view. Mary moved towards him holding a tiny bundle of blankets. High pitched wails coming from the squirming blue bundle. She looked exhausted. He could hear his parents talking even though he didn't understand many of the words.

 

 

"God John, I just don't know about this one. Dean latched right off the bat. Sam's just not seeming to catch on. What if something is wrong? He just won't stop crying." Mary's voice was full of worry.

 

 

"Well honey just sit with him and Dean while I get what you've pumped into a bottle and maybe I can get him to drink it," John said as he kissed her forehead. When John left the room, Mary finally looked over at her oldest son.

 

 

"Mommy, I wanna hold him." Dean's arms were out ready to take on the responsibility.

 

 

Mary was bouncing the baby in her arms, trying in vain to soothe him. "Ok sweetie, remember what Mommy told you about his head?"

 

 

Dean nodded. Mary slowly placed the shrieking babe into Dean's arms. Making sure he cradled Sam's head just the way they'd told him to, Dean pushed the softness of the baby blanket away from where it had moved to cover the baby's face partially. Looking up at his mother with uncertainty as the shrill cries rose an octave.

 

 

Mary smiled at her son, "You got this. Remember what I taught you, sweetie."

 

 

That was all the reassurance Dean needed. He gently rocked the baby in his arms. "Hi baby boy, My name's Dean, and I'm your big brother." The moment the sound of Dean's voice drifted gently into the screaming baby's ears the crying stopped. Tiny little hazel eyes drifted open to stare at Dean's face. Not yet able to see clearly at 3 days old but taking it in all the same.

 

 

Dean smiled a silent victory over being the sole person able to stop his brother's cries. "I'm gonna take care of you, little brother. Forever and always."

 

 

John came into the room with a bottle of breast milk in hand. "Ok son, time to give him back to Mommy." He said as he reached out to take Sam from Dean.

 

 

"No John, give him the bottle." John opened his mouth as if to argue. He decided it best not to when Mary shot him a stern look of finality. He handed Dean the bottle after testing the temperature on his arm. From that moment on, Dean seemed to be the only one that could quiet his baby brother. From the very first time Dean ever held Sam in his arms, he knew that Sam belonged to him.

 

 

December: Age 8

 

 

John was leaving like he always did. Dean watched from the bathroom doorway of a run-down motel room as John moved about packing his bags with haste. The sounds of Sam's rendition of the Jaws theme behind him as his little brother played in the bathtub with a toy boat and shark.

 

 

"Dean, get your brother an' come here," John barked. The once loving father's face turned cold, empty.

 

 

"Sam's still playing," Dean protested.

 

 

John cocked his pistol before tucking it into the back of his jeans. "Now boy! Do what I say."

 

 

With a huff of defeat, Dean grabbed a towel from the rusted old shelf in the bathroom. He ignored John's remark about not asking for an attitude. He unfolded Sam's towel only to be met with a frown of disappointment from Sam. "Come on Sammy, don't make it hard on me. Just do what he says," Dean sighed. Sam pulled the drain plug out before stepping out of the tub.

 

 

Dean draped the towel and began drying the boy off. Ruffling it over his hair before wrapping it around Sam to cover his nakedness. The two of them stepping out into the room together. Dean pointed over to their bed before bending down to pick up Sam's pack to begin rummaging around for a pair of Spiderman pajamas.

 

 

The sound of John's boots stomped behind him just before he felt his father's hand cuff him hard in the back of the head. "Next time do what I say, boy. Don't give me no fuckin' lip." Dean smiled down at Sam's confused face. John didn't usually hit Dean in front of him. But all that didn't matter to Dean. He'd take whatever John dished out to him. As long as it meant he continued never to hit Sam.

 

 

"There's money on the counter for food. Lock the door, the windows, and watch out for Sammy," John barked before picking up his bag and slipping out of the motel room door. No word on how long he'd be this time. Dean sighed. At least Sam didn't know where their dad was going. What he hunted. That things really did go bump in the night, even though Dean promised Sam they didn't.

 

 

It didn’t take long for Dean to get Sam dressed. Sam always did what Dean said, was always such a good boy for him. Dean was closing the cover of Green Eggs and Ham for the second time that night. He reached over to turn off the bedside lamp before snuggling under the blankets with Sam. Wrapping Sam in his arms in a protective hold. Sam was his, forever and always, and Dean would give him the world.

 

 

June: Age 13

 

 

Dean was walking past the register of a little mom n' pop owned store in Lincoln, Nebraska. A heavy backpack over his shoulder. Making sure not to make direct eye contact with the man behind the counter. Freezing in his tracks when he heard the old man's voice tell him to stop. He never understood why he didn't make a run for it.

 

 

"Come here, boy. I know you got something in your bag. Just show it to me," the old man said as he stepped around the counter. Dean turned to face him, his body shaking all over. He still wouldn't look the man in the eye as he let the bag slip from his shoulder. He knew the man was eyeing him in judgment. Taking in his worn-out old Converse, baggy jeans, and a faded shirt.

 

 

He unzipped the bag to reveal a loaf of bread, jars of peanut butter and grape jelly, and a two-liter of Coca-Cola. The old man kneeled down to be eye level with Dean. Bright green eyes were finally rising to meet the old man's set of ice blue. "What's that stuff for, son?" the old man asked, his tone easy going.

 

 

Dean shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "It's...for my little brother sir."

 

 

"Where are your parents' son?" the man asked as he rose to his feet, moving over to the counter. Dean didn’t answer, he just couldn't, simply didn't know what to say. The old man was shuffling through some comic books on a rack beside the counter. He picked a small stack of them along with a few candy bars from the counter. Moving back to place them inside Dean's bag before zipping it closed. "What's your name son?"

 

 

Dean was blinking dumbfounded at the man, "Dean."

 

 

The old man smiled, giving Dean a gentle pat on the top of his greasy hair. "Well Dean, My name is Jerry. Come back tomorrow, and we can see what all we can fit in that bag for your little brother, okay?" Dean smiled wider than he ever had at the old man. Tears were running down his cheeks.

 

 

January: Age 16

 

 

Cassie rolled over in her bed to face Dean's back. She clutched the comforter to her naked chest. “Mmm, Dean, that was unbelievable,” she sighed. Crawling out of the blankets to wrap her naked body around him as he pulled on one boot then the other.

 

 

“Cassie we need to talk,” Dean groaned as she nibbled his ear. Sending shivers down his spine.

 

 

“Oh come on, don’t start this shit again,” she huffed. “There is no such thing as ghosts. Stop being crazy Dean.”

 

 

He broke out of her grip. “I'm not crazy! And I'm not kidding! My Dad's back, and he's found a ghost. We're leaving tomorrow.”

 

 

She stomped out of bed, pulling her robe over her, clutching it tightly. “You know, you're a great lay, Dean Winchester, but if you wanted to break up with me you didn't have to make up all this bullshit to do it!” she screamed at him.

 

 

“I’m not!” he yelled back.

 

 

“You know what Dean, just get out. I never want to see you again!” she spat the words out like venom.

 

 

Dean stood there stunned for a moment. He'd thought this girl could show him what it meant to love. She had said she was in love with him. Maybe that was just a trick to get him into bed with her. He'd known it all along. She wanted his body not his heart.

 

 

He caught his leather jacket one-handed when she'd launched it at him. Slipping it over his broad shoulders as he moved to her bedroom window. Keeping his face in shadow as he slipped out without a word.

 

 

He'd made the small jump down from her first-floor window with ease. He'd hit the ground running, only stopping when he slipped inside the automatic doors of a liquor store around the corner from the run-down house they were squatting in. He walked the aisles perusing the different bottles until the cashier turned his back to grab a pack of cigarettes for a man at the counter. He slid a slender bottle of bourbon into his inner coat pocket, slipping back out the doors before the cashier even noticed.

 

 

He was once again running down the block. Halting at the front door to the abandoned house. He tapped three times on a window on the side of the house. The window slid open, and Dean crawled inside. Sam was looking up at him with a wide-eyed grin. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, or maybe it was comfort. Either way, he knew it didn't matter as he squeezed back the hand that gripped his own. Numbly following as Sam led Dean to the small bed in Sam's room.

 

 

As Sam climbed in, pulling the blankets back, Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket. He pulled the bottle from the inner pocket. With a single twist, the cap was off. Dean pressed the cold glass of the bottle mouth to his bottom lip as he watched Sam dusting off the sheets where Dean was meant to lay. Dean wrapped his lips around the bottle, tilting it up to chug a significant amount of its contents. It burned a hot trail down his throat leaving him breathy as he set it down on the ground next to Sam’s bed.

 

 

Dean pulled his tee shirt over his shoulders, letting it fall forgotten to the floor before crawling in under the blankets. He pulled Sam onto his chest. The small boy was nuzzling into Dean’s chin. Dean placed a gentle kiss on Sam’s forehead. He ruffled Sam’s hair with his nose, breathing in the smell of green apple shampoo. Sam continued to nudge Dean’s chin with his nose. Dean knew what it was that Sam wanted. He also knew they were getting too old for this. Dean tilted Sam’s chin up further with his hand, pressing their lips together in a sweet, timid kiss.

 

 

Dean relaxed into the mattress. Surrounded by the sweet smell of Sam, the feel of Sam straddling his hips. The weight of Sam’s small tender frame on top of Dean’s tall, lean body. The soft brush of Sam’s lips meeting his own. Sam was the first to pull away, leaning back from the kiss to meet Dean with sleep-dazed hazel eyes and a satisfied smile. The small boy was slinking down to lay spooning his big brother's side. With one final nuzzle of his head into the crook of Dean's shoulder for comfort Sam drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

 

 

Dean lay there flat on his back. The arm wrapped under and around Sam going numb. His fingers laced with Sam's started to tingle. The thoughts swirling in his mind were something he couldn't admit, even to himself. He ground his free palm into the crotch of his jeans. Cursing himself along with the feeling of friction against his erection.

 

 

He hated everything. He hated his father for exposing Sam to this shit life by leaving his journal where Sam could find it, for hitting him, drills, and wanting to beat Sam. He hated Cassie for failing him. For not being able to satisfy the animalistic desires that had sparked within him the first time they fucked. Cursed himself for wanting something he could genuinely never have. For his disgusting desire to defile the purest soul, he'd ever known. He sighed, he couldn't think of that.

 

 

Sam shifted in his sleep, bringing one leg up on top of Dean's hips. A thought crossed Dean's mind. Maybe it wasn't up to Cassie to teach him what love was supposed to be. Staring down at his little brother sleeping he realized he already knew what love was. Sam was love. Sam was everything right in the world. Maybe Sam was meant for Dean to love and women were meant to handle his fucked up sexual desires.

 

 

Dean grinned wide to himself. He'd figured out a way to give Sam his heart while keeping Sam's purity. A way to resist his sickness. He turned on his side, closed his eyes. Snuggled up to Sam as close as he could before pulling a blanket up over them. Dean slept a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

 

 

October: Age 17

 

 

Dean watched John stare blankly at the set of keys in his hand. He hesitated to say a word. Dad had said to get in the car yet now he had been standing there for way too long not moving. Sam was shivering in the back seat. Dean itched for the heat to be running almost as much as he itched to wrap his body around Sam's and warm him himself. He'd settle for the heater running.

 

 

He rolled the window down about 5 inches or so. "Dad come on if Sammy's teeth don't stop chattering I'm gonna lose my mind,” he yelled out the crack in the window.

 

 

"Dean, come 'er," John barked, not looking up at his son.

 

 

Dean slammed the door behind him as he stepped out. Worry eating away at him. Dad was acting strangely. Something had to be horribly wrong. He pulled his colt out of the waistband of his jeans, cocking it as he ran over to John.

 

 

"Put the gun away, son." John's words were more of a barked order than he'd meant them to be. He held out the keys for Dean to grab.

 

 

"Want me to drive?" Dean asked.

 

 

"She's yours now son. Take good care of her." John smiled at him. He patted Dean on the shoulder as he stepped past him, opening Baby's passenger side door and climbing in.

 

 

Dean held the keys in his open palm. Tears were coming to his eyes.

 

 

July: Age 18

 

 

Sam sat down the milk crate full of fireworks on the ground of the field they stood in. Dean had hustled a couple of rich-bitch frat brothers out of some cash in a poker game at a local college bar near the Florida State University campus. He'd run straight back to the motel to get Sam. They ran to the closest fireworks stand blowing the cash on the best they could find. What kind of college students stayed home during the summer? Sam pulled two Roman Candles out of the crate. He turned to look up at Dean. "Got your lighter?" he asked.

 

 

"Fuck yeah, you know I do." Dean pulled his silver Zippo out of the pocket of Dad's old leather jacket.

 

 

"Fire 'em up!" Sam wore an excited grin, he handed Dean one of the fireworks. Dean struck the lighter before holding it first to Sam's than his own firework. When sparks roared out the ends, they held them up, watching with wide-eyed wonder as they rushed towards the sky to explode in bright colors. When they died out in a gust of smoke, Sam turned to Dean meeting his eyes with pure joy. "Dad would never let us do anything like this. Thanks, Dean, this is great." He wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. Squeezing him in a tight embrace.

 

 

When Sam finally let go Dean kneeled down until he was eye level with his little brother. "Tell you what, light 'em up, Sammy." He held the lighter out for Sam. From the expression on Sam's face, Dean didn't think life could ever get any better. Sam was practically buzzing as he took the lighter before running up lighting the fuses on each of the canon fireworks in the crate. Backing up to Dean's side once they were all sparking to life. Sam's hand slid into Dean's, lacing their fingers together as bright lights of every color exploded in the sky. Dazzling booms were sparking out and whirling around into the night.

 

 

May: Age 21

 

 

Dean placed a small plastic food container down on the motel table in front of where Sam sat in a dirty old chair. He popped it open to reveal a single slice of cake. “Happy birthday Sammy. Sorry Dad couldn't be here.” Dean forced a smile so fake it did little to hide his frustration with John.

 

 

Sam leaned up in the chair, looking down at the cake then up at Dean's face. Dean was holding out a plastic fork. Sam took it with a gentle whisper of thanks. He plunged the fork into the cake cutting into it to come up with a single bite. The sugary sweet confection was moist in his mouth. He let out a pleased mmm sound. Dean’s smile was finally turning genuine. Sam looked up from the cake to soak up Dean's warm smile. They stayed that way until Sam had finished the slice.

 

 

“Hey, Dean, do we have enough money for pizza?” Sam asked hopefully.

 

 

“You bet your sweet ass we do,” Dean boomed with pride, running to the motel phone.

 

 

An hour later they lay sprawled out on Dean's bed, a large pizza box sitting between them, the TV blaring an old episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Dean spoke with his mouth full, a slice of pepperoni and cheese hanging out of his mouth. “I swear the Vamps in this show are the closest I've seen to the real thing.”

 

 

Sam let out a sarcastic, “Wow.” As if he were genuinely impressed. Dean smacked him playfully in the shoulder.

 

 

Dean laughed, his half eaten slice falling to the floor. “Ah, shit!” Dean spat. They both reached for the last piece of pizza. Their fingers were touching on top of it.

 

 

Sam pulled his hand out from under Dean's shyly. “Go on, you can have it, Dean.”

 

 

“Wrestle you for it.” Dean gave a wicked grin. He pounced on top of Sam tickling his sides. Sam fought Dean off as best he could. Struggling due to how much taller and bigger Dean was. They rolled around on the bed, knocking the pizza box onto the floor where it snapped shut. Until Sam gained the upper hand, straddling Dean's firm hips. He pinned Dean down onto the mattress, pressing his hands onto the broadness of Dean's shoulders.

 

 

Dean groaned at the feeling, resisting the urge to buck his hips up to grind against Sam's ass. He sighed, closing his eyes to fight back his disgusting urges. Trying to steady his breaths through slightly parted lips. Lips that suddenly felt warm as something pressed against them. He hissed in an excited breath. This was a dream, that's all. He was dreaming again that his sweet, beautiful Sammy was kissing him.

 

 

Sam's tongue slipped into Dean's mouth, seeking to explore. Dean's eyes flung open. Sam's frame was draped down over him. His little brother's body heat was filling him with intense hunger. He felt his cock twitch with sudden interest. It started to swell at an alarming rate, more eager than it had ever been before. He could feel it lengthening down the leg of his jeans. In a panicked lusty daze, he did the first thing he could think of. A hard smack sound echoed in his skull as his fist slammed into Sam's right cheek sending the boy flying off him, flailing to the ground.

 

 

Dean rose up off the bed so fast his head spun. Sam was staring at him with tearful eyes. He was clutching his softly swelling cheek. “Jesus Sam, what the fuck? You some kinda fucking faggot?” Dean barked at him. He marched to the front door, grabbing his keys and jacket on the way, slamming it shut behind him.

 

 

On the other side, he pressed his back against the cold wood, panting to catch his breath. His gut swelled with self-hatred. He heard Sam's timid voice croak out a sob, “I’m sorry don’t leave...want you so bad,” on the other side of the door. It was quiet, but Dean heard it so clearly. He almost turned around to go back inside. He knew he couldn’t. If Dean did, there was no turning back. He wouldn’t be able to cage the lusty beast inside him.

 

 

“Fuck!” he grumbled under his breath. His erection wasn't going anywhere soon. He walked over to where Baby was parked, head hung low. He'd find a bar to lose himself in a bottle. Then find a woman to bury himself inside, along with his filthy desires.

 

 

October: Age 21

 

 

Dean sat at the bar of some dump in Arizona. He turned the shot glass in his hand staring blankly at the whiskey inside, to lost in thought to down it. If Dean was being honest … shit was getting weird with Sam. They'd always been strangely close, that he would admit. But until Sam's last birthday Dean had thought himself a monster. Almost every bit as bad as the ones they hunted. A fucking freak because he wanted …

 

 

He pressed the lip of the shot glass to his bottom lip, tipped his head up and downed it. He motioned to the bartender for another. If he was finally going to admit it to himself, more liquor was needed. That he wanted to fuck his little brother. There, he'd finally admitted it. It didn’t even matter that Sam was a guy. That Dean had no sexual feelings towards other men. It wasn’t like he’d never fucked a girl's ass before. He knew how to do it properly, how to prepare. It's just … this was Sam. His baby brother, it was fucked up, and he knew it.

 

 

Now Sam was acting weird. Had Dean infected his pure sweet Sammy with whatever shit was wrong with him? Sam had kissed him millions of times. Sweet innocent shows of affection for a big brother, all that was changing since the night of Sam's seventeenth birthday. Now when Dean stumbled in piss drunk with a woman to fuck he knew Sam was watching. Sam had been watching them for a while, no longer hiding in motel bathrooms or the room Sam would claim for his own in abandoned homes they broke into. The last time Dean had seen him peering through the half-open bathroom door.

 

 

He bent the girl over the bed, shoving her face down into the mattress to keep her from seeing Sam. With expert skill, he undid the buckle of his pants, snapped the button of his jeans, pulled down the zipper before pulling his hard cock out, then buried himself to the hilt into her wetness. The way Sam’s eyes stared at Dean’s body turned him on. It was like Sam never even noticed the girl. Dean’s eyes grew wider when Sam’s hand plunged into his jeans. Dean groaned a guttural noise when Sam began jerking himself. He’d fucked the bitch like a savage until she was a raw drooling mess, excited and driven by the sight of Sam’s teeth raking his plump bottom lip when Dean spat out the filthiest dirty talk his depraved brain could think of.

 

 

He silently cursed himself for the way he’d once again been a dick when he’d found Sam crying after. But the whole thing consumed his thoughts. It had started a fire inside him. Something he still couldn’t get over. He ached to bury himself inside Sam. Slide his throbbing length down Sam's warm throat, or better yet bury it deep in his perfect little bubble cheeked ass. He groaned at the thought, pressing his palm into the crotch of his jeans. He gulped down the shot in his hand. He’d bet his Baby that virgin ass was the tightest fucking hole a man could pound. A shiver went down his spine as he slid the empty glass across the counter, emptying it again the second the bartender slid it back.

 

 

Dean’s eyes shut tight as the whiskey burned his throat, sighing in his drunken haze. His hand was squeezing the hardness creeping its way down his thigh, making his jeans uncomfortably tight. God this was fucked. Sam wanted it, he had to. Sam had practically tongue fucked Dean on his birthday. He’d jerked off to Dean fucking that girl like a man possessed until his cum soaked the crotch of his pants. When they’d sleep together, Sam would pant as he ground his ass against Dean’s crotch when he thought Dean was sleeping. Then when the morning sun began to rouse him, he’d rut his morning wood against Dean’s leg. There was no doubting what Sam was after.

 

 

Dean stood from his bar stool covering his hard-on with his jacket. He threw a 20 on the counter before turning towards the door. Sam wanted Dean to fuck him, and Dean was going to prove it to himself. He was going to march himself into their motel room, throw Sam down on his bed and take him. Dean settled in behind the Impala’s wheel. Fear was setting in to fill him with doubt. What if he was reading all of this wrong? There could be no chance Sam would ever return his feelings. He was just a freak. In love with his baby brother, a lustful monster that wanted something he could never have.

 

 

“I’m sorry don’t leave...want you so bad.” Sam’s voice rang in his head.

 

 

He turned the key in the ignition, Baby’s engine roaring to life. Her gentle purr was calming him. Sam’s own privately spoken words were ending his inner struggle. Sam did want it, he’d unknowingly told him so. At that moment he knew there was no denying himself a second longer. Dean would stop at nothing until he was inside Sam, blowing his load in Sam’s fucking guts if he had to. He wanted to fill Sam with his cum until it squelched out of him with each thrust. Wanted it to pour down Sam’s leg when he pulled out. Whatever it took to mark his territory by leaving a piece of himself in Sam forever. Claiming him so that no matter who Sam fucked Dean would be there. Forever and always there.

 

 

Dean smirked wickedly. “Oh, baby boy. Big brother’s gonna give it to you so fucking good.” He promised himself. He’d bet Sam would scream while he was fucked. That he’d rock his hips into it. Not just lay there as women did. He sped down the road towards the motel. The excitement was rushing through him at the thought that finally, he’d be whole. Because ultimately he’d be able to put his heart and sex together and give everything to a person. The only person that ever meant anything to him.

 

 

July: Age 24

 

 

Dean woke from a fitful sleep. His back searing with pain from the deep cuts Sam's nails had left there. He could feel where the blood had begun to soak through the bandages Sam had wrapped around his torso. "Sammy wake up. Need you to change these bandages," he crooned in a raspy sleep-dazed voice. His hand was reaching over to stroke down Sam's shoulder, finding cold, empty sheets his eyes shot open. "Sammy?" He sat up looking around the room to find he was alone. He stood up out of bed, grunting as a sting of pain shot down his back. He dressed quickly in jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He walked out to the living room finding John passed out drunk in a recliner.

 

 

Dean shook his head in distaste at their father's state of being. He breathed out a steady sigh before moving to search the house for Sam. Panic set in when he didn't find Sam anywhere inside. Dean ran out onto the front porch, mossy green eyes scanning the yard. When he noticed John's, truck was parked next to the impala fear rooted deep in his stomach. Had the thing that got their mom attacked while he slept and taken off with Sam? The feeling that Sam was in danger gnawed at his gut.

 

 

"Sam!" he screamed out as he bolted barefoot down the porch steps. He stumbled forward cursing loudly at whatever he'd stepped on. Turning to look his face contorted into an emotion that could only be described as earth-shattering grief. He bent down to pick Sam's ring up off the bottom step. Tears threatened to fall as he turned away from the house to look across the yard again before settling on the silver band in his palm.

 

 

"He's gone." John's voice behind him caused him to jump slightly. "He don't want us anymore son. That boy has never been like us. Never cared about hunting the thing that took my ,Mary, from us." John was moving towards his truck to toss a duffle bag in through the passenger side.

 

 

Dean slid Sam's ring on to his pinky beside his own. "Good idea Dad, I'll be packed in just a second, and we can go find him." Dean turned, making it halfway up the stairs before John's voice froze him where he stood.

 

 

"We ain't looking for him boy. Don't you get it? He didn't want you anymore. He don't want this life." John's words were like venom worming its way to Dean's heart. Bringing a painful dread that would surely end him. "I'm headed to town to find out more about this werewolf. And you're headed to meet up with Bobby to take out a vamp nest. Come on now son, we got a job to do."

 

 

Dean could feel the last spark of life draining from inside him as he shoved his dirty clothes into his duffle bag. He could hear the rumble of John's truck as it peeled down the gravel driveway. Sam had been everything to him. Without him, Dean was empty of any happy emotion. Left only with the darkness of angry nothingness.

 

 

He'd loved Sam in every sense of the word. Loved him with his heart, his body, his soul. Now John was leaving him too. He had nothing. Dean was nothing. He'd continue to hunt because it was the only thing he had left. He floored Baby's gas pedal as he hit the highway towards Sioux Falls. No music was playing through her speakers to calm his broken heart.

 

 

March: Age 26

 

 

Dean woke in the early hours of morning. The dark of night still claiming the land. So many things had happened so fast since Dean picked Sam up from Palo Alto on Halloween night. They'd hunted monster after monster on Dad's trail, finally ending up back in Lawrence. Dean had vowed he'd never return here but couldn't resist Sam's pleading concern for the family living in their house. Still, at this moment with Sam laying naked snuggled tight in his arms, sleeping in peaceful post-coitus bliss, Dean couldn't be happier. For two years Dean had been an empty shell, a hollow man that was operating on autopilot fueled by alcohol and rage.

 

He'd taken orders from John over the phone, utterly alone since the day Sam left him. For two years it had been like clockwork; orders, driving, hunting, drinking, repeat. Since Sam was here things had been better. Now that he had once again felt Sam's touch everything was perfect. Dean had thought himself doomed. That he'd fade away hunting alone, his life ended by some creatures' teeth or claws. Maybe nobody would even know. Perhaps nobody would even find his body. All that was in the past now. Sam was back and was his once again.

 

Dean shifted himself on top of Sam, nibbling Sam's neck to rouse him. Sam groaned a sleepy complaint as Dean nuzzled the tip of his nose against Sam's. A playful giggle escaped Sam's throat as Dean pulled Sam's legs apart to place his hips between them. Dean held onto the backs of Sam's thighs as he loomed over him. Dean slid inside Sam with ease, his entrance still slick from their first round that night. Sam's head fell back into the pillow as he moaned, allowing Dean access to suck and kiss the tender flesh there as Dean's hips began to rotate. He thrust steady and sure, pouring his love into Sam with each movement.

 

 

March: Age 28

 

 

“Well, it's 12:04 Dean. You good? You happy?” Sam asked sarcastically.

 

 

"Yeah, I am happy!" Dean spat back.

 

 

"Let's go hunt the Morton House you said. It's our Grand Canyon." Sam's tone was mocking.

 

 

"Sam, I don't wanna hear this..." Dean said with his head bowed. He knew Sam had tried to talk him out of this. Yet he was ever stubborn, refusing to listen. Hunting and sex were the only things that kept his mind off his fear of hell.

 

 

"You got two months left, Dean." Sam's face was soft, full of emotion. His voice ached with sadness.

 

 

Dean didn't need to be reminded. It's not like he could forget. How could he when everything was spiraling out of control. Sam was showing definite signs of addiction to Regina's demon blood. He needed to drink from the canteen more often. The worst thing being Sam wasn't just having visions anymore. Now he could move objects with his mind, pin demons down by restricting their movements and god only knows what else. Dean hated it. It made him sick to his stomach. Like a part of Sam was changing into something he didn’t recognize.

 

 

Sam's need to break Dean's demon deal and hunt down Lilith was becoming an obsession. Yet all Dean wanted to do was kill monsters and fuck Sam nonstop for the time he had left. It was all he could do not to pin Sam against the wall behind him and rip his jeans from his body. Dean wanted to lift Sam up, wrap Sam's legs around him, bury himself balls deep inside of Sam. He knew he could arch Sam to just the right angle where he could find his prostate on the first thrust. Dean wanted to fuck Sam so hard he'd be left a drooling cum covered mess. He wanted to rut against Sam until their bodies were flush. As if they were molded into one single being. The way they should be. The way they were born to be.

 

 

No doubt Sam was still slick with lube from where Dean had done just that before they came here. Dean let out a soft groan at the image he pictured of his cum still running down Sam's leg under his jeans. Dean shook his head at his own thoughts. He'd just had Sam less than an hour before yet here he was wanting more. He knew he couldn't. For one they were in great danger. Two, these kids with their fucking cameras were staring right at them. He silently cursed to himself at the missed opportunity.

 

 

Dean's thoughts came to a halt at the sound of Sam smashing a chair against the boarded-up window of the front door to the house. He raised his arm to protect his face as splinters of wood flew around the room. The Ghostfacers were beginning to scream and yell around them. Dean rolled his eyes at them.

 

 

April: Age 28

 

 

The Impala roared down the highway on a warm April night. Sam was curled up on the front bench seat with his head in Dean's lap, attempting to calm himself after his near-death experience with the mad alchemist doctor. Dean gripped the steering wheel tight as he listened to the dial tone coming from his phone. When someone picked up on the other end of the line, he didn't wait for a hello.

 

 

“Hiya Bela, here's a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that motel receipt.” Dean's voice bore darkness.

 

 

“You don't understand.” She pleaded with him. For a moment Dean felt regret though it faded fast at the memories of what she'd put them through, what she'd done. A deed Dean realized he could never forgive when Sam's hand squeezed his inner thigh. How could she do it? He'd never understand.

 

 

“Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. See I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door?” He paused for a moment. “An herb, Devil's Shoestring?” He paused once more as the memory replayed itself to him.

 

 

_Bela stepped through the door of her dark hotel room, turning to push the key into the deadbolt to lock it behind her. Large hands grabbed her in a firm grip, spinning her around before slamming her against the door. The attacker's strong hands gripped the front of her blouse with overwhelming aggression. Her eyes not having time to adjust to the dark couldn't make out his face._

 

 

_“Where's the colt?” he snarled at her. His voice a smoldering rich bass, dark and heavy like molasses yet thick and sexy like the sweetest of honey. A voice she would have loved to know the sound of its moans as its owner lost himself in pleasure. That is if only she hadn't recognized who it belonged to._

 

 

_“Dean,” she said in a sharp tone. Smirking at him as she briefly imagined what his face would look like if he were sprawled out beneath her while she rode him. Everything about him from the hard set of his sculpted jawline, devilish good looks, broad shoulders, muscled thighs, the impressive bulge in his jeans, all the way down to his bow-legged stance assured her he was an exquisite lover. It was sad really, all the things he’d never know, she thought. In truth, she’d gladly have bedded both of the Winchester brothers if they weren’t already screwing each other. “Tell me have you ever known a woman's touch? Or are you so sick it only gets hard for your brother?”_

 

 

_Dean's upper lip rose into a grimace of disgust. “No extra words.” His tone was harshly finite._

_“It's long gone,” she sighed, “across the world by now.”_

_“You're lying,” he growled._

 

 

_“Call the buyer, speak Farsi?” she asked sarcastically. He jerked her towards him causing her to gasp. She could feel his left-hand move down to her waist. She gasped, weakly beating her fists against his chest as best she could in the small space between them. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” she yelled._

_“Don't flatter yourself.” He pulled her pistol from her waist holding it out beside her face so she could see it before flicking the light switches next to her on. “Don't move,” he ordered as he stepped back from her, waving the gun at her to enforce his point._

_“I told you I don't have it.” She snapped._

_“Oh yeah, I'm definitely gonna take your word for it.” Dean pulled the dresser drawers open, rummaging through them. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bela with her back pressed to the wall inching her way towards the door. He spun around fast as lightning, firing a shot from his 1911 through the door inches from her face. She shrieked in shock, gasping in fear. “Don’t. Move.”_

 

 

_Her shoulders slouched in defeat, tucking her loose bangs behind one ear she pressed against the door watching as he lowered the weapon before resuming his search. “It’s gone.” Her voice was soft as he pulled a suitcase out from under the bed to rummage through it. “Get on a plane if you must.” He threw an article of clothing back down into the case his eyes searching through his rage._

 

 

_“Track down the buyer you might catch up to him eventually.” She immediately regretted the words because those green eyes landed on her. They held an emotion she’d never seen him give a human being before. She felt a sense that something dark, something purely evil dwell within him, scratching just under the surface, waiting to be released. He stormed over to her, pointing his pistol at her head._

_She kept her face blank in a refusal to show him the fear she felt. “Are you going to kill me?”_

_“Oh yeah.” His words held a tinge of laughter causing his voice to quiver on the first word. His face bearing a cocky smirk._

_“You’re not the cold-blooded type.” She added a nod to her statement. Trying more to convince herself than him. That look in his eye made her quite unsure, had he always been this way or perhaps she had failed to pay enough attention to his behavior in the past. It wasn’t as if she knew him well. Any action she took in the next few moments had to be carefully planned out_.

 

 

_“You mean like you? It’s true,” he said mockingly. “See I couldn’t imagine killing my parents.” There was a sharp bite to his sentence that spoke of disgust._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She held her blank expression, hoping he’d buy it._

_“Yes, you do. You were what, 14? Folks died in some shady car accident. Police suspected a slashed break line, but it was all to crispy to tell.” His smile was wicked as he spoke. Full of judgment and hate. “Cut to little Bela; Oh, I’m sorry, Abby,” he paused, giving her a look that read as yeah honey I know, “inheriting millions.”_

_Shock finally settled on her face. “How did you even?”_

_“Doesn’t matter,” he barked._

 

 

_Her eyes drifted to the floor as she sighed only for a moment before she met his own again with a pleased grin that didn’t exactly meet her eyes. “They were lovely people,” She tipped her head in closer to him. “And I killed them, and I got rich. I can’t be bothered to give a damn. Just like I don’t care what happens to you.”_

_He rushed her, slamming her back against the door frame, staring down into her as he pressed the barrel of his gun against her chin. “You make me sick.”_

_She smirked at him, knowing this was the end. She’d said all the wrong things but stopped caring when he’d mentioned her parents. “Likewise.”_

_He let go of her, backing up then retaking aim, smiling as he did. She closed her eyes, ready for death. Something caught his eye then. He glanced up, seeing the herb above the door frame. When no shot came, she opened her eyes slowly, finding him gazing at her in confusion. He lowered the gun, yet she didn’t understand why his eyes held victory. “You’re not worth it.” He gripped her by the arm, shoving her out of his way. He opened the door, stepping out before closing it quietly behind him._

 

 

Sam shifted on Dean’s lap as the rain began to rat-a-tat against Baby’s windshield. Dean supported his phone with his shoulder, reaching down to run his fingers through Sam’s hair before returning his grip to the phone. “See there’s only one use for that, holding hellhounds at bay. So, you know what I did? I went back and took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died 10 years ago today. You didn’t kill them; a demon did your dirty work. You made a deal didn’t you Bela? And It's come due.”

 

 

He paused for a moment when he felt Sam nuzzle his waist, understanding yet ignoring Sam’s signal that he was being too harsh. “Is that why you stole the Colt? Trying to wiggle out of your deal? Our gun for your soul?”

 

 

“Yes,” She sobbed through the phone line.

 

 

“But stealing the Colt wasn’t quite enough I’m guessing?” he asked sarcastically.

 

 

“They changed the deal, they wanted me to kill Sam.” Dean’s face grew dark at her words, causing Sam to sit up and stare at him.

 

 

“Really? Wow, demons untrustworthy.” He chuckled lightly. “Shocker, that's kind of a tight deadline too, what time is it? Oh, look at that it’s almost midnight.”

 

 

Her sobbing became uncontrollable. “Dean, listen, I need help.”

 

 

“Sweetheart we are weeks past help.”

 

 

“I know I don’t deserve it.” He could hear her sniffling through the phone.

 

 

“You know what, you’re right, you don’t. But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you!” he barked loudly.

 

 

“I know and saved yourself. I know about your deal, Dean.” Her confession shocked him.

 

 

“And who told you that?” His voice was calm even through his anger.

 

 

“The demon that holds it, she holds mine too. She says she holds every deal.”

 

 

“Lilith.” He stated.

 

 

“How...did you know?” she almost whispered the question.

 

 

“I’ll see you in hell,” he growled. She didn’t deserve an answer. He pressed the end call button, his hand still clutching the phone as realization settled in. They’d lost the Colt for good. Leaving only Sam to fight for Dean’s life. Dean’s back up plan was ruined. An age-old hatred he’d felt swelled in his gut. He’d failed to protect his baby brother, again. He knew then at that moment that he deserved hell.

 

 

April 27th: Age 28

 

 

Dean’s lips pressed firmly against Sam’s to swallow his moans. He let out a deep groan as Sam bit into his lower lip. His hips thrusting harder when he felt the pull of Sam sucking down the blood leaking into their mouths from the bite wound. He pressed Sam hard into the mattress of the squeaky motel bed. The two of them a sweating, panting, moaning mess of limbs as they began to edge towards the final mind-blowing climax of the night. Sam’s long legs were wrapped around Dean’s waist, one arm wrapped around Dean’s back from under his arm, nails digging into the tender flesh of Dean’s shoulder blade; the other dripping with lube was stroking his own cock matching the pace of Dean’s thrusts.

 

 

Dean’s upper body was hovering low over Sam’s, his hands placed tenderly on each of Sam’s cheeks clutching him like a treasure as their tongues battled each other in a mesh of saliva and Dean’s blood. Dean had set a slow rhythm with deep, long, brutally hard thrusts. “Fuck Sam, ugh, let me cum,” Dean growled against Sam’s parted lips when they’d broken the kiss. His hips jerked forwards giving three rapid, massive thrusts against Sam’s prostate.

 

 

Sam cried out, his nails digging deeper into Dean’s back. “No De, don’t stop, not yet.” Sam’s pleas sounded breathy. He was far past his limit yet he never wanted it to end. Never wanted Dean to stop. He wanted to keep Dean here inside him forever, hot, hard, and safe.

 

 

“Can’t hold out much longer baby boy. Please, Sammy, I need it.” Dean’s heavy lust fueled eyes meeting Sam’s in a desperate plea. Sam had been denying him release for the past hour. Every time Dean would reach the edge Sam’s legs around him would squeeze him tight to keep him from moving until the feeling that he was about to cum had died down. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, he was struggling to keep his slow, steady pace, his thrusts speeding up then slowing again.

 

 

He watched Sam watching him. Taking in the flush of Dean’s cheeks, the bead of sweat running down the tip of his nose from his damp hair, his mouth open, panting with exhaustion and the need for release. Sam seemed to be struggling with himself as if thinking over a serious decision before Sam’s expression softened as he made up his mind. “Cum for me De, cum deep inside me.” Sam’s words were more a moan than speech.

 

 

Dean groaned deep in his throat at Sam’s words. He sat up straight causing Sam’s arm around him to fall to the sheets where Sam’s fingers gripped the fabric tight. Dean’s hands slid down Sam’s stomach to squeeze Sam’s waist in a mean grip, his hips snapping into action as he pounded into Sam faster and faster. Sam mewled like a wild thing beneath him as his head tipped back into the pillow. Sam’s hand around his own cock between them speeding up to again match Dean’s pace. It wasn’t long before Dean gave a final sharp thrust, growling out a primal, guttural sound. He doubled over Sam’s body, his face buried in Sam’s throat as he came, spilling hot and thick inside Sam.

 

 

Sam’s gasped out loud, his eyes snapped shut. He cried out his own orgasm at the feeling of Dean cumming inside him. “Fuck Dean! There’s so much.” Dean continued to groan into his neck, his body shaking slightly. Sam could feel it filling him, feel it starting to leak out of him around Dean’s softening cock. When Dean pulled out, it gushed out of him, spilling onto the bed sheets. Dean collapsed on the bed next to Sam, satisfied and utterly spent. Sleep was calling to him in haste.

 

 

“Fuck Sammy that was amazing. God, I'll never get over how good your sweet ass feels,” Dean huffed out, his voice raspy from hours of loud sex. The sound of broken sobs filled the air. Dean's eyes jerked open to land on Sam. Sam had curled up into Dean's side, tears running down his flushed cheeks.

 

 

“Sammy! What's wrong? D-did I hurt you?” Dean was pulling Sam to him. “Fuck! Sammy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be too rough! This has never happ-"

 

 

“You're gonna die Dean…in 6 days,” Sam choked out crying, cutting Dean off. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His lips pressed together firmly. Instead, he pulled Sam over his body to straddle his hips before pulling the thin, threadbare comforter over them.

 

 

“How can I go on knowing where you'll be? Knowing I'll never feel your warmth again? Feel your skin? Hear your voice?” Dean thought Sam had more to say, but his sobs choked whatever it was off.

 

 

“Hey hey, now baby boy. You're gonna be great without me. You’re gonna get out of this life, go back to school, be a lawyer. You’ll find a pretty little thing to love. All I've ever done was bring you down Sam. You’re better off without me. I'm a fuck up Sam.” Sam was shaking his head in protest at Dean’s words.

 

 

“No, Dean! You're my big brother! You're everything!” Sam yelled.

 

 

“No, Sam I really am. I'm shit, Sammy. Dad's dead because of me because I couldn't be a good brother to you, because I couldn't stop myself from giving in to how bad I wanted you. And because of me, he went off alone and …” Dean's eyes drifted downward.

 

 

“Jo is never gonna be ok cause of me. Because I couldn't live up to the guy, she thought I was. Now she’s gonna question the intentions of every guy she falls for. And it's my fault for leading her on. For being a typical douchebag. And there's Bobby…” Dean sighed, he couldn’t talk about his feeling about how his death would break the man that had been a real father to them.

 

 

“And you Sam, I couldn't save you, and this is my punishment. And Regina, she sacrificed everything to help me for nothing … and the demon blood … ”

 

 

Sam cut in, “Dean I don't need the blood. I can stop anytime.”

 

 

“No, Sam! It’s fucked! I should never have said yes to you drinking that stuff. How many times have you lost control and binged on that shit?” Dean kept his voice as calm as he could.

 

 

“A few, but Dean I don't need it! It's ok. I'm not an addict. I can fight Lilith, and everything's gonna happen like Regina said it could. I won't let you go to hell. And I won't let you be a demon.” Sam's tears were slowing, but he clung to Dean like it was the last time he would.

 

 

“A few? Sam try 7.” He sighed in defeat at Sam's defensive expression. “No, let's not fight baby boy. You're right. I'm not going anywhere, we will beat that bitch, together.” Dean’s hand was sliding across Sam's ass cheek. Comforting Sam in the best way he knew how. Solving problems with sex was Dean's MO. He slipped two fingers inside Sam to the last knuckle earning a surprised moan. He curled them at just the right angle to graze against Sam's prostate, the organ slightly sore from over stimulation and slick with cum from the considerable load Dean had left in him.

 

 

Dean felt far too spent to get hard again for a while so instead he'd distract Sam by fucking Sam’s ass with his fingers. Dean gave a wicked smirk as Sam's hips jerked, rutting down onto Dean's fingers. Dean was sure he could get at least one more orgasm out of his little brother. A theory he was determined to make a fact. Mere minutes later Sam was quivering against Dean's chest, riding out the waves of climax while chanting Dean's name so loud the person in the room next door beat on the wall. Dean bellowed a hearty laugh. “Goddamn, I'm fucking good.”

 

 

Dean pulled his wet sticky cum covered fingers out of Sam to press them against Sam’s bottom lip. Sam parted his lips so Dean could slide them inside towards the back of his throat before closing his lips tightly around them. He began to suck, bobbing his head gently up and down them. Dean bit his sore bottom lip in a failed attempt to suppress a moan. Sam let Dean’s fingers slip from his mouth once they were clean. Dean craned his head forward licking the ghost trails of Sam’s tears up from Sam’s chin to the tops of his cheeks.

 

 

“Well, whatta you know? Looks like I’m hard again,” Dean rasped out. His teeth against Sam’s cheek as he spoke in a dark tone that was pure sex. He gripped Sam’s hips with both hands, lining Sam’s entrance up with his erect tip then burying himself to the hilt in Sam’s warmth again. Biting down gently on Sam’s cheekbone as Sam's mouth dropped open to let out a loud gasp of surprise then claiming Sam’s mouth with his own.

 

 

Present day: Age 28

 

 

Dean stood up from his chair on Bobby’s front porch, a warm cup of coffee steaming in his hand. He stared off into the distant sky as the first rays of morning sun began to peak above the trees. A brisk early morning breeze leaving chill bumps on his skin. He could smell the grass, the morning dew that settled upon it. The tinge of motor oil from the cars in the salvage yard, the coffee in his cup, the ghost of gunpowder on his hands. All the things he’d grown so used to he never noticed anymore.

 

 

Robert Plant sang the words, ‘and as we wind on down the road our shadows taller than our soul. There walks a lady we all know who shines a white light and wants to show how everything still turns to gold,’ through the radio on the patio table behind him. Dean took a sip of his coffee savoring its flavor like a treasure. He’d woken in the middle of the night from horrid nightmares of being chased through the woods, the sound of howls and vicious barks on his heels.

 

 

He’d lost track of how long he’d been sitting out here remembering the past. The good times along with the mistakes he’d made. The sun was halfway above the treeline now, casting it’s glow upon the earth, bringing its warmth in all its stunning glory. Robert was crooning the last line, ‘And she’s buying a stairway to heaven,’ on the radio. Dean smiled a halfhearted grin. His contract came due today. Today, was the day Dean Winchester would die.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please be sure to leave kudos and comments. 
> 
> Kyna.


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